The Methods of Intolerance
by Alice I
Summary: Charlie, Amita and their families get a closer look at what intolerance really means. They each find out what preconceptions they harbor in their own hearts and how to come to terms with them.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Methods of Intolerance  
**Author:** Alice I  
**Betas:** FraidyCat, Serialgal, Oughtaknowbetter, ALEO, dHALL  
**Spoilers:** Robin Hood  
**Rating:** NC 17 for strong content and adult subject matter  
**Disclaimers:** The Numb3rs universe belongs to someone far more clever than me. I'm just playing in thier sandbox. I have no money so don't sue me.  
**Summary:** There are many ways to harbor and show intolerance. Some intolerance manifests itself in narrow mindsets or can even be passed off as tradition while other methods are more openly caustic and even brutal. From the way we, as people, think to the way we act or react can all be classified as various methods of intolerance. This is something that Charlie, Amita and both of their families are about to get a lesson in.

**A/N** - The first two stories in this series are not necessary background to understand or enjoy this tale but they are referenced. Those first two stories are called _'Faith in Your Partner'_ and _'Memento Vivere - Remember to Live'_  
This story was conceived after the remarks that occurred between Charlie and Amita in the episode Robin Hood concerning the differences in their ethnic backgrounds and Amita's father's point of view concerning non Indian men and his daughter.  
There is brutality in this story but I assure you that everything that is described within this story is researched fact. This tale is not meant to be disrespectful to the Indian culture, which harbors true beauity, but it's plot does center around the atrocities that are occurring in parts of that country toward women.

**The Methods of Intolerance**

**Chapter One**

The day had been long, filled with classes that had nearly doubled in size since his recently published book had made the _New York Times Best Sellers_ list, and Charlie was tired. He sat down heavily at his desk, running a hand through his hair. Amita had just left for her own office to gather up the files she needed to take home. - Home - That was the problem for Charlie. She still had not moved into his house yet, and he doubted that she would until the issue with her father was resolved. It had hurt him to think that this man would reject him because his heritage wasn't suitable in his eyes. Amita had assured him that her father's objections were not based on his being Jewish, but rather the fact that he was not Indian. It was an odd sort of backwards racism that continued to needle him no matter how much he tried to convince himself that he would be able to win the man over and that everything would turn out fine. If he were being totally honest with himself, he had to admit that this situation with her father was a major motivator in his push to get Amita to move in. If she was living with him, then her father might feel that he had no choice in the matter. However, in that respect, Charlie didn't want to be all that honest with himself. He didn't want to look in the mirror and admit to himself that he was employing emotional blackmail on the woman he loved or her father.

Amita's parents were scheduled to arrive in LA in three days, and he was more nervous than he could ever remember being. He had redoubled his efforts to strengthen his right leg so that he could finally be free of the cane that he had been forced to use ever since an aneurysm burst in his brain, nearly killing him, only two months ago. If Amita's father would have a hard time with him not being Indian, then what would he think if he felt the man who wanted to marry his daughter was a cripple? As much as he hated physical therapy sessions, he was adamant about attending every one of them regardless of how hectic his teaching schedule had become. Now, rather than having to use it consistently, Charlie found that he only really needed the cane at the end of a long day of standing in front of classes of students.

He reached into the bottom left drawer of his desk and pulled out the small black felt box that contained the sapphire ring he had purchased for her. The waning light of early evening shown through the window and it bathed the room in a soft glow that glinted off the surface of the blue stone, giving brilliance to its deep cerulean core that seeped into near black at the edges. Then he turned the ring and the light hit it differently, changing the color and making the stone seem alive and vibrant as the shifting brilliance allowed the gazer to peer into its mysterious depths.

Larry stepped into the office as Charlie was looking at the ring and peered over the young man's shoulder. Charlie was so absorbed in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed Larry come in and nearly jumped out of his skin when the physicist spoke. "I take it that is for Amita."

Charlie fumbled with the box and had to scramble to get it before it bounced under the desk and the ring was dislodged and broken. "Larry! Don't sneak up on me like that."

Holding his hands aloft in a gesture of surrender, Larry protested. "I wasn't aware that I was sneaking at all, Charles. I merely inquired as to the destination of that... engagement ring?"

Charlie had rescued the box with the ring intact. He wanted to be careful with it because even though sapphires were very hard stones they were still not nearly as hard as a diamond. In fact, diamonds were approximately four times harder than a sapphire. Charlie quickly looked out through his office door to make sure that Amita was not returning for anything; then he carefully replaced the ring in the bottom drawer of his desk and locked it.

"Yes, Lawrence, if you must know, that is an engagement ring." Charlie got up stretching slightly and winced at the cramping of the muscles in his right leg. He reluctantly reached over to the other side of his desk for the cane that he had come to view as a sort of nemesis. "Amita mentioned to me nearly a year ago that she would never buy a diamond. The diamond trade is a brutal business and she felt that supporting it, by increasing the demand, would be the same as endorsing the atrocities exacted on the African men and women forced to work in the diamond fields."

Larry nodded his head in agreement of the sentiment but seemed to have reservations. "An admirable sentiment, Charles, but how much of the diamond trade these days come from Africa, and do you think that she might make an exception in her thinking when it comes to her own engagement ring?"

Charlie shook his head at his friend. He really did seem to underestimate Amita sometimes. "Her convictions are true, Larry, and she wouldn't waver over something like this. She was all fired up about it when we talked last year." Charlie shook his head and blushed at the confused frown on Larry's face. "No, we didn't talk about engagement rings, Larry. She had seen a movie about the diamond trade and we were just speaking hypothetically. Last year we were in no position to even think about engagement rings, let alone marriage. She was still considering moving to Massachusetts."

Charlie felt a slight chill run up his spine. He was painfully aware of how close he had come to losing her to a position at Harvard. He picked up his satchel and put it on his shoulder before turning toward the door.

"So what about now?"

Charlie paused to turn out the light in his office and looked back at Larry. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I presume that since you have purchased a ring that you are in more of a position to discuss marriage?"

Charlie shrugged slightly as he held the door open, allowing Larry to pass through, before turning and locking it. "I don't know, Larry. I'd like to think so, but..."

"Uh oh. Do I sense discord in paradise?"

"No. No, we're fine. It's her father. She thinks…" He paused, considering the best way to phrase the statement. "She's afraid that he might have an issue with me being… well, with me _not_ being Indian."

Larry refrained from comment, but nodded his head knowingly as he studied his friend's posture and body language closely. He realized that this matter had been bothering the young professor on a deep level for some time. Larry had picked up on a vibe that something was bothering Charlie some time back, but with the aneurysm and his recovery from it, Larry simply assumed that was the cause of any current underlying conflict in the young genius.

They moved off down the hallway and Larry automatically took hold of several books that Charlie was carrying that didn't fit in his satchel. Such had become their evening routine since Charlie's return to campus. Also, Larry found the fact that his young and energetic friend was slower these days was an opportunity to reinforce the concept of conscious walking.

* * *

The early evening air was warm, with a hint of Mimosa. Normally, this observation would have brought a smile to Amita Ramanujan's face, because in her youth her backyard had a Mimosa tree covered in bright fragrant pink blossoms. The scent generally served to bring back childhood memories of carefree summer afternoons, but today it only reminded her that her parents would be arriving in three days and she eventually would have to tell her father about Charlie. 

Her idea of getting their fathers together seemed like such a brilliant notion when it first occurred to her, but now she was second-guessing herself. Memories of the dreadful argument that she had with her father when she told him she did not intend to honor the prearranged marriage that her parents had set up with Aditi Pankajakshan, a banker from Goa, plagued her and as a result, she had withdrawn from everyone including Charlie. She knew that he wanted her to spend the evening with him. However, she had already resolved herself to stay at home tonight; knowing full well that she had been spending less and less time at Charlie's house the closer her parents' arrival came. She was confident that her mother and father would not try to force her into this pre-arranged marriage with a man that she considered to be 'a total ass'. But the old ways were alive and well and her father was under immense pressure from the Pankajakshan family, especially after Aditi saw a recent picture of her.

With these disturbing thoughts swirling around in her mind, Amita didn't even notice that she was being followed. When she stopped to reach into her purse for her keys, the attack came so swiftly that she was caught completely off guard. A strong arm reached around her neck and pulled her backward. She tried to twist her body around in an attempt to free herself from her attacker, but she had been thrown off balance by the assault. Unable to regain her footing, she felt herself being dragged roughly backwards, away from her car. She opened her mouth to scream, but before she could make a sound, she was hurled violently against the wall of the building next to the parking lot. The air rushed out of her lungs as she hit the brick and mortor like a rag doll. As she tried to catch her breath, her attacker grabbed her shoulder and spun her around, slamming the back of her head into the brick wall with enough force to momentarily blind her.

She tried to scream again, but her attempt to verbalize her fear failed and she realized that a powerful gloved hand was now wrapped around her throat, crushing her larynx and cutting off her air supply. Amita blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision. A paralyzing wave of stark terror washed over her at the sight of the man standing before her. His deep brown eyes, fired with hatred, glared at her through two holes in the face of a tightly knit black ski mask. Through the wide hole at the bottom of the mask his thick lips separated in a revolting sneer, exposing his teeth, which seemed almost unnaturally white in contrast to the dark material of the mask and the waning light of early evening. Then he leaned forward and spat in her face.

"You have dishonored your family and your body with that filthy bhadkhau Sewwer ki bachi!"

Before Amita could even process what he had just said, her attacker punched her savagely in the midriff. If her air supply hadn't already been cut off as he throttled her, the blow would have knocked the wind out of her. Blackness began to encroach upon the edges of Amita's vision and a renewed sense of panic engulfed her. She had dropped her books, files and bag when she was grabbed from behind, but she still had her keys in her hand. With the practiced ease of a movement done repeatedly, she laced the keys between her fingers. Closing her hand into a tight fist with the ends of the keys poking out between the knuckles she swung desperately at her attacker. The lack of oxygen was robbing her of strength but she managed to connect the blow with his face. Her car's ignition key cut a large slash in his cheek just below his left eye, tearing the socket of the mask in the process.

This enraged the man holding her, and she heard him shriek, "Chinaal kutiyaa!" as he brought his fist around and punched her in the face. The force of the blow snapped her head back and slammed it into the brick wall behind her a second time, causing blinding pain to rip through her head before darkness consumed her and then she felt nothing at all.

Throwing her limp body to the ground, the man swore curses at the unconscious woman as he brought his hand up to his bleeding face. The warm, sticky feel of his own blood only served to fuel his rage and he was about to start kicking her when the sound of laughter brought him back to his senses and he spun around quickly, spotting two students walking along the far side of the parking area. They were immersed in conversation and had not noticed him or the now unconscious professor. Realizing that he had already taken too long to complete his undertaking, he stepped away from Amita and over to a brown van which was parked next to her car. Opening the sliding door on the side of the vehicle, he grabbed a large, metal can with a pour spout from the inside and started to move back toward his victim. As an afterthought, he stepped back up the van, reached into the driver-side window and started the engine before going back to finish his task.

Looming over Amita's unconscious form, he stared at her for several seconds in disgust, and then, once again, spit on her. Tipping the can, he began to pour the liquid within all over her hair and body. Once the can was empty, he looked at her carefully to make sure she wasn't rousing, and noticed the keys she had cut his face with still laced through her fingers. He reached down and took them, then grabbed the can and quickly returned to the van, tossed the items in and slammed the door shut. He glanced back to where the two students had walked by. The area was now vacant, and he checked to make sure that no one else was near. Turning his attention back to the woman lying on the ground, he stepped slowly over to her and pulled a polished silver Zippo from his pocket.

"It is time to pay for your indiscretion, chinaal." He spit on her for a third time, and then opened the lighter, stroking the flame to life.

TBC.

Please take a moment to stop by my forum Calling All Authors. It is under the general catagory of forums or you can just go to it from my profile. We are growing every day and would love to have more friends come and play with us. Folks from the Numb3rs fandom will recognise many names but all readers and all authors from all fandoms are welcome!


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N** - I would like to repeat what I said in my author's note at the beginning of chapter one.  
This story is not designed to offend anyone, it is not meant to be disrespectful of the Indian culture or the Hindu culture or any other culture. If I have offended anyone out there, I apologize.  
The subject matter that is a part of this story is emotionally and politically charged and if this is not in your comfort zone you should not continue to read.  
For those of you who want to know what my sources were for research I have listed a fair few of them at the bottom of my profile page. Simply click on my name and scroll down to the end of the page.  
I sincerely appreciate the support of the readers who have taken the time to leave reviews and who have not judged this story or my integrity as an author based on a single chapter. I do hope that you continue to enjoy this tale.  
Thank you  
Alice I

**Chapter Two  
**

The fatigue that Charlie was feeling made the elevator at the far end of the math building cross his mind, but with a resigned sigh, he turned and headed for the stairwell. His office was on the third floor which was well within his physical abilities, and his therapist would frown on his temptation to use the elevator. The situation with Amita was only a part of what had been causing his sullen mood of late. One of the things his physical therapist had told him to watch out for were bouts of depression, which were often associated with an ischemic injury. When a perfectly healthy person lost the ability to move or function normally it was not uncommon for that person to lapse into depression. Charlie's loss of fine and gross motor function was relatively minor, yet it still produced a feeling of inequity with his world. As petulant as it sounded in his own mind, Charlie often found himself thinking _'Why me? This isn't fair.'_

Larry didn't attempt to coax conversation out of Charlie, feeling that in order for the young man to gain true peace with his inner thoughts he needed quiet companionship. The amicable silence that often characterized their evening trek from Charlie's office did actually give the young professor a sense of relief. He knew that he need not explain himself to Larry, nor was he burdened with the necessity of engaging in idle conversation when that was the last thing he wanted to do. Charlie was fully aware that his mentor was subtly trying to convert him to a routine of 'conscious walking' that he had learned in the monastery. At the same time, Larry knew that Charlie would not ask for help but needed it at the end of his longer teaching days, so he had adopted the practice of peeking in to see his young friend at the end of each day. They fell so naturally into their roles that neither of them questioned it and therein lay the true comfort of their relationship.

Stepping out into the warm evening air was refreshing. The campus was oddly quiet, and it took Charlie a moment to remember that the absence of the several dozen students usually seen in the area could be attributed to the Linkin Park concert that evening downtown. Most of his students had been talking about it all day. As they approached the end of the Math and Physics building and the parking lot beyond both men looked up and exchanged a confused frown at the smell of gasoline that wafted on the breeze. As they rounded the corner, Larry stopped dead in his tracks causing Charlie to turn his attention to what ever had caused the horror stuck expression on the older man's face, and what he saw galvanized the younger man into action.

Amita lay on the grass between the sidewalk and the building with a figure dressed in black looming above her. Charlie, who had been leaning somewhat heavily on the cane, started forward lifting the cane from the ground as the man held his hand up, said something inaudible, and then he spit on her. The strong smell of gasoline was thick in air, and Charlie felt his heart jump into his throat as he saw the man open and ignite a small silver lighter in his hand. Equations flew through his mind at the speed of light calculating trajectory and angle of descent even as he raised the cane he was now carrying to throw at the hand holding the lighter. He screamed "No!" which startled the man and drew his attention just as Charlie threw the cane.  
  
The sturdy exquisitely crafted Wenge wood shaft made the perfect projectile; it hit the man's hand, dislodging the lighter, which flew up into the air, went out, and dropped harmlessly to the sidewalk. The cane continued in its flight, blinding the man momentarily when it struck him across the bridge of his nose. Charlie never slowed down as he charged directly into Amita's attacker, tackling him to the ground with the force of a linebacker, and knocking the wind out of him. Surprise mingled with anger flooded through the man giving him enough of an adrenalin edge to land a vicious punch across Charlie's cheek, and throw the professor backward onto the sidewalk where he landed hard enough to send a wave of pain through his back. The man used the opportunity to roll to the side, gain his footing, and make a dash for the van that was running. Within seconds, the vehicle peeled away from the building and tore off out of the parking area before Charlie could even get up to pursue him. 

The sound of Larry's voice brought Charlie's attention back to the immediate situation when he heard his friend exclaim, "Oh, God! I don't think she's breathing!"

Charlie quickly scrambled over to Amita who was lying on her side with her hair covering her face. The smell of the gasoline drenching her was so strong it was nauseating. Charlie gently rolled her on to her back, pushing her hair aside. He could see that her skin was already beginning to turn red where her soaked clothing clung to her.

Larry stood there with shock apparent on his face. "My God! She's covered in gasoline, Charles."

"I know!"

"He... he was going to burn her alive!" Larry almost whispered this last statement as revulsion sickened him and made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

"Larry!" The stark shock quickly cleared from Larry's eyes and he focused on Charlie. "Larry, call an ambulance!"  
  
Larry was almost right; Amita was barely breathing and Charlie could clearly see the bruises forming around her neck where she had been strangled. Without even realizing he did it, Charlie sent a desperate prayer to whatever God might be listening before he began mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. The taste of the gasoline nearly made him retch but he held it together as he focused all of his attention on forcing air into the woman's lungs. After only three rescue breaths, she shuddered uncontrollably before sputtering and coughing violently as she sucked in ragged lungfuls of air. 

Charlie tried to comfort her but as soon as his hand touched her shoulder she squeaked and tried to crawl away from his touch, crying in deep throaty sobs and attempting to call for help in a coarse and strangled sounding whimper.

"Stop, Amita! It's me. It's Charlie! I've got you, it's okay; I've got you!"

Charlie enveloped her in a protective embrace not caring that he was also being soaked in the volatile liquid as he rocked her, repeating that she was safe now. Her breathing at that point was throaty and punctuated by husky puling with an almost croupy sounding cough, until she passed out again from shock.

* * *

Matt Laraby and his girlfriend Beth had passed by the parking lot next to the Math and Physics building on their way to the Bagel Bin Cafe across the street from campus only to find that Matt had left his wallet in his truck, so they turned around and headed back. The sound of screeching tires drew them out of their conversation and focused their attention on the parking lot next to the building. Neither of them could discern any characteristics of the nondescript vehicle other than its color. The license plate was unreadable at the distance they were from the vehicle. It was Beth who heard Professor Fleinhardt yell to Professor Eppes, and when she turned her attention toward the voices she saw a figure on the ground next to the building. She yanked on Matt's sleeve and pulled him toward the commotion next to the building as Professor Eppes began to perform mouth-to-mouth resuscitation on the figure lying on the ground.

Like the professors, the students also noticed the strong smell of gasoline before they even got close enough to make out who was on the grass. The woman had been revived but she was desperately trying to move away from Professor Eppes. Not knowing what was happening, Matt pulled out his cell phone and called campus security when he realized that Professor Fleinhardt was on the phone with 911 calling for an ambulance. Beth looked on, horrified when she realized that the now unconscious woman on the ground was her combinatorics professor. Professor Eppes was trying to stand up while holding Professor Ramanujan and having a hard time of it, so Beth rushed to his side to help.

"We need water; lots of water! I have to get her to the west quad - the athletics building has showers. We have to get this gasoline off of her, it's burning her skin."

Beth turned on her heel and ran straight over to Matt, groping in his jeans pocket for a set of keys. She pulled them out and took off at a dead run to the far end of the parking lot. Larry hung up with the 911 operator and approached a wobbly Charlie as he hefted Amita's limp form in his arms trying to get a better grip on her. He was about to insist that Charlie sit down again when the sound of screeching tires drew his attention to the parking lot again. For a heart stopping moment he feared that the attacker had returned, but instead he saw a bright red pick up truck pull up behind Amita's car.

Larry took Charlie's elbow and helped him get to the back of the pick up with Amita and pulled down the tailgate. Matt, who was relaying the situation to campus security over his cell phone, informed them that they were getting in his truck and headed for the athletics building. He disconnected, and hurried over to the truck to help Professor Eppes get the soaked woman into the bed of the pickup. This took some doing because as small as Amita was her dead weight combined with Charlie's waning strength made it difficult to get her up without hurting either of them. Once they rolled her onto the truck bed, Matt climbed in after her first and pulled Charlie up into the truck bed as well.

Charlie turned to Larry and said, "Direct the ambulance to the west field. Those are the closest showers and easiest to get to." He reached into his front pocket and pulled out his own cell phone and tossed it to his friend. "Call Don, he's number three on the speed dial. Tell him what's happened and ask him to come out here."

Larry reached over and closed the tailgate of the truck before he slapped the side twice. With that, Beth took off down the parking lot headed for the west quad of the campus, driving so fast that she nearly plowed into the approaching campus security car, which turned abruptly and followed the pickup truck with sirens blaring.

Matt was impressed almost beyond words with his girlfriend until she slammed the tires up over the curb near the athletic field. "Damn, Beth! Take it easy will ya!" He patted the rim of the truck bed uneasily and mumbled under his breath "She didn't mean any harm, girl."

Charlie was oblivious to everything; his full concentration was focused on Amita. The abrupt halt to their forward progress snapped him back to the present. Matt jumped down out of the back and opened the tailgate as the security car pulled up behind the pickup truck. The security guard ran over to help Charlie get out and pull the barely conscious Amita from the truck bed.

Charlie looked at the security guard as he pulled Amita to his chest so he could carry her over at the athletics building. "Do you have keys to that? We need to get her into the shower."

The man didn't need to ask any questions. The situation was obvious and the smell of the gasoline was so strong that he'd caught the scent of it as he drove behind the truck. He jogged ahead to the door fumbling with a huge ring of keys that were clipped to his belt. Charlie was having difficulty keeping from limping heavily at this point, so Matt and Beth flanked him, supporting him by the elbows, and by the time the awkward group made it to the building the guard had the door open. It only took them another minute or two to get her into the shower room and lay her gently down on the floor, supported against Charlie who knelt beside her.

Beth stood up and pushed both Matt and the security guard out of the shower room. "Professor Fleinhardt is sending the ambulance here. Get towels and blankets from them."

She didn't give either of them the opportunity to object as she literally shoved them out and shut the door. Then she moved quickly over to where Charlie knelt on the floor cradling Amita in his arms.

"Take her clothes off." Beth started the shower going with a mixture of hot and cold water. She took care to make it lukewarm; she didn't want to shock the professor. It took a moment to adjust the temperature and as soon the water hit Amita's head she began to stir.

Charlie wanted to make Amita aware of her surroundings before he started trying to remove her clothing. He was acutely aware of her fear and how she had desperately tried to flee from his touch when he first revived her, so he stroked her face and spoke into her ear.

"Amita, it's Charlie. Amita, wake up sweetheart. Can you hear me? Amita I'm here, I've got you."

Amita started to struggle in Charlie's arms and whimper weakly but quickly calmed as she focused on Charlie's voice, his reassuring words, and his gentle touch. She tried to say something but her voice wasn't cooperating and the only thing that came out was a hoarse sob.

The water was helping a little with the smell but it permeated her clothes and the only way to deal with it was to remove them. Charlie talked Amita through it, explaining gently that they needed to get the gasoline off and that meant taking her clothes off. As he unbuttoned her shirt and peeled it back, he was able to see the redness of her skin where the gas-soaked cloth had lain against it, as well as a deepening bruise in the center of her torso.

Her attacker had obviously kicked or punched her ruthlessly, which caused an all consuming rage to flare up in Charlie's chest. He knew in that moment that the primal fury he had felt when he tackled the man was not some fleeting emotion. If he were to come face-to-face with the man who had done this to her he would do more than break his nose with a thrown cane.

The water hitting her body caused her to cry weakly, but there was no other way to prevent further burning. With Beth's help, Charlie was also able to get Amita's jeans off, until she was clad only in her panties and bra under the stream of tepid water. A loud knock at the door announced the arrival of the ambulance crew. Beth went and pushed open the door admitting two EMTs and shooing Matt away as she closed the door behind the emergency personnel who had entered.

Amita's clothes had been tossed aside but the fumes emanating from them were making the air in the shower room rank with the odor. At the direction of one of the EMTs Beth turned off the water. Amita clung to Charlie and curled her legs up in a fetal position shivering, but she jerked away from the touch of the tech who wanted to examine her. She seemed to be trying to melt into Charlie's body in and attempt to find protection in his arms and he had to try to calm her by stroking her wet hair and telling her to let them do their jobs. She began to shiver more and more so the second tech pulled out a towel to hand to Charlie and asked him to try to pat her dry. The tech then pulled out another towel and was awkwardly trying to wrap her hair in it when Beth stepped forward saying, "I'll do it. She knows me."

Once Charlie and Beth had Amita patted down and her hair wrapped up in a towel, Charlie stood up, bringing Amita to her feet with him. A blanket was wrapped around her for warmth but she wouldn't let go of Charlie, nor would she let the EMTs touch her. Her gait was even more unsteady than Charlie's making the pair so ungainly that they threatened to topple over so while one EMT supported the pair the other wheeled the gurney into the shower room and Charlie managed to get Amita onto it just as her strength and his leg were about to give out.

Charlie held on to the side of the gurney using it for support as they maneuvered out of the building and into the cool evening air. Amita seemed terrified to let anyone else near her, so when the gurney stopped for as moment, Charlie held her face in his hands and kissed her gently.

"Let these people take care of you, baby. They need to get you to the hospital, but I'll be right behind you, all right?"

With tears streaming down her face Amita nodded, still unable to voice anything other than a hoarse sob. The emergency personnel seized the opportunity to whisk the gurney away and over to the waiting ambulance. Charlie tried to follow but his leg had been taxed beyond its endurance and he dropped heavily to his knees when it finally buckled. Strong hands gripped his upper arms and he looked up into the worried face of his brother.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N** - I want to thank everyone for their reviews and support. I always love to hear from you folks. I especially want to thank **ttchaku** for her comments. It is wonderful to know that I have _not_ offended someone who is actually _from_ India and has real knowledge of the country and it's customs. Thank you ttchaku!  
Alice I

**Chapter Three**

Charlie looked dreadful. He had a large bruise forming across the left side of his face, he was soaked through and smelled of gasoline but what really stood out to Don was the panicked look in his brother's eyes.

"I need to get to the hospital!"

Don helped Charlie to his feet and supported him as he found his footing. "Hey, Buddy, hold on a second. You need to change into some dry clothes and the police are gonna want a statement."

"I don't have time for that, Don! Amita needs me to be there when they take her in. Don! I have to go NOW!"

Don listened intently to Charlie while at the same time he began to steer him back toward the building. "I'll take you to the hospital, I promise, but first let's get you cleaned up okay? I've got some clean clothes in the truck; you know I always keep a duffel handy. You need to get out of these wet clothes; they're covered in gasoline."

Charlie stopped walking and started shaking. He brought his hands up to his face as the realization of the last twenty minutes hit him with the force of a sledge hammer.

"Oh, God. Don, he was gonna burn her alive! He almost did. The lighter was... if he had dropped it... Don! She almost died tonight."

Don had steered his brother inside the athletics building and to the men's shower room away from the police and security teams who could be seen through the open door to the women's shower room as they collected Amita's clothing and spoke with Beth. Charlie began shaking even harder and Don was concerned about shock as he guided him to one of the long wooden benches running down the length of the room.

"Buddy, look at me." Don waited for Charlie to raise troubled eyes to meet his own. "She didn't die tonight. From what Larry told me you saved her. You ran off her attacker AND you got her down here to get the gas washed off of her before it burned her skin too badly. She's going to be all right... because of you, Charlie. Now you need to take care of yourself. You have to get these clothes off before the gas burns your skin too; okay, Buddy?"

Just then Larry stepped into the men's shower room and Don was grateful to see him, especially since he had brought towels with him. "Larry, can you help him get these wet things off. I'll go get some dry clothes from my car."

Don didn't wait for an answer. He gave Charlie's arm a squeeze and stood up but, not before giving Larry a significant look that clearly said, 'Stay with him'.

As Don walked to his SUV that was now parked outside of the athletics building he shuddered slightly at what Larry had described to him, but he also felt a welling up of pride for the heroic actions taken by his younger brother. Don knew that he would have done pretty much the same thing, but he was a trained FBI field agent while Charlie was a professor of mathematics. The simple fact of the matter was, Charlie was not trained for this kind of action. His brain simply wasn't hard wired for heroics, at least not the physical variety.

He reached into the back of his SUV and pulled out his duffel bag. He had needed to have a spare set of clothes so often over the last few years that he had taken to leaving a clean sweat suit and a clean change of dress clothes in the back of his vehicle. He had the feeling that his father might be getting a little tired of him stopping by and borrowing his shirts all the time. The dress clothes would not fit Charlie, but the grey FBI sweat suit would be fine for the young man. As he stepped back from the door to close it, he was approached by the Pasadena police officer in charge of the scene. He was a tall man with the most neatly pressed uniform that Don had ever seen. The man looked incensed when he caught sight of the FBI windbreaker that Don had slung over his shoulder as he stepped away from the vehicle.

"Excuse me, I wasn't aware that the FBI was taking over this case. Is there something that I should know about concerning the victim or her attacker?"

Don stopped and pulled out his identification. He didn't want to get into an inter-agency struggle with the police department and as of the moment this was clearly not FBI jurisdiction but since he wanted to be kept in the loop he decided a little schmoozing was in order.

"Special Agent Don Eppes. I'm not taking over your investigation officer...?"

"Prig." the man answered stiffly. He obviously was prepared to defend his jurisdiction and felt that Don's presence here was a serious breach of protocol. Don was starting to feel a little incensed himself but remained calm and his kept tone neutral.

"Well, Officer Prig, the victim, Professor Amita Ramanujan is one of our consultants and she is also a personal friend. Professor Fleinhardt is the one who called me and told me what had happened. Professor Eppes was also attacked and is showing signs of shock, and I am just getting him some dry clothes to change into before I take him to the hospital." 

Officer Prig's eyes narrowed and he looked suspiciously at Don. "Professor Eppes? Is he any relation to you, Agent Eppes?" 

"Yes, as a matter of fact, Professor Eppes is my brother and also a consultant for us. As I said, I'm not trying to infringe upon your case. I'm here because these people are my friends and my family." Don reached into his pocket and withdrew a business card and handed it to Officer Prig. "If, in your investigation, you have need of our resources I would be more than happy to make my people available to you."

Prig took the card but eyed Don with a haughty expression. "Agent Eppes, I am sure that our little department can handle this case without federal interference especially from an agent's team who clearly has a conflict of interest with the case. I will need to speak to your brother before he goes anywhere, and I would like to speak to him alone."

'Well so much for for inter-agency cooperation.' Don thought with mounting irritation. He had tried to play nicely, and this stiff pain in the ass was going to be a jerk. "Well I'm afraid you will have to speak to him after he has been checked out by the doctors at the hospital. If you'll excuse me." 

Don didn't wait for a reply from this man as he stalked off toward the athletics building. Prig made to follow him when Matt walked up and asked if he could give his statement now so that he and Beth could leave. They both wanted to get to the hospital so they could check her combinatorics professor.

Once Don finally got back into the shower room, he was relieved to see that Larry had gotten Charlie to strip off the wet clothes and wash the worst of the gasoline off. He sat in the now steamy shower room clad only in a towel around his waist. He had a look on his face that was an odd mixture of impatience and an almost zombie like stare. Don handed the clothes to his brother who got dressed rather mechanically. His eyes were charged with a frenzied intensity which was a stark contrast to the stiff perfunctory motions he used to get dressed. Don didn't want to take him out the front door and past officer Prig so he asked Larry to walk him around to the back of the building by the track where he would pick him up.

When Don walked back to his SUV, Prig was still speaking with Matt but looked pointedly at Don trying to catch his eye as he headed straight for the vehicle. Don refused to meet his gaze and instead fired up the engine and drove off before Prig, who had asked Matt to wait, could close the distance between them. Don looked in his rear view mirror at the stance of the man who looked utterly furious.

During the ride to the hospital Charlie wouldn't say anything, and Don was seriously starting to worry about him. He was so quiet and had a blank look on his face except for his eyes; they told another story. The bruise on his cheek was growing larger and more colorful, and by morning he would have a fairly impressive black eye. Don's FBI badge held much more sway with the ER staff than it did with officer Prig and the two Eppes brothers were able to gain entry to the ER and Amita without argument.

When the ambulance arrived at Huntington Memorial ER with Amita she had lapsed into a semiconscious state. She was responsive to stimuli but whenever she did respond it was with mild hysterics and uncontrollable sobbing that tapered off into a half lidded daze, until she began to throw up. The nausea didn't abate until she was given an IV and had anti-nausea medication administered. An initial work up had been ordered which included blood work but the ER doctor had not been able to properly examine his patient because she started sobbing and clutching her arms around her body when he attempted to touch her. She managed to find a voice of sorts as she croaked out, "Get away!"

As Charlie and Don made their way to her cubicle Charlie put on a burst of speed when he heard Amita trying to fend-off the doctor who was attempting to shine a light into her eyes. He pushed his way into the room, and before anyone could stop him he made his way to the side of her stretcher and engulfed her in a hug stroking her hair and reassuring her that he was there. She reached for Charlie and clung to him tightly raising up to a semi sitting position and burying her face in his shirt.

Charlie looked up at the doctor and said, "Just give me a few minutes with her."

The doctor backed away and turned his attention to his nursing staff speaking quietly. "We'll need a rape kit, done."

Charlie heard this and his head shot up. "Absolutely not!"

Don also heard the doctor and agreed with him whole heartedly. Larry told him that by the time he and Charlie came around the corner, Amita was already unconscious and lying on the ground. Based on her reaction when Charlie first tried to touch her as well as her reactions here it seemed perfectly plausible, even likely, that she could have been sexually assaulted before Charlie and Larry got to the crime scene.

"Charlie, Buddy, you don't know..."

"No, Don. She wasn't... he didn't hurt her that way."

Don had seen this reaction in boyfriends and husbands in the past. The thought that any man could have touched their loved one in that manner was revolting to them. He drew closer to Charlie and tried to keep his voice supportive.

"Listen, Charlie this is something that needs to be done. You don't know what happened to her before you got to her."

He was about to continue when Amita, who had begun to calm down, looked up with tears in her eyes. When she spoke her voice was broken and gravely from being strangled but she was finally able to say something coherent.

"I wasn't raped. It wasn't like that." More tears dropped but she seemed to be holding herself together. "Help me to sit this thing up please."

Charlie reached back to the head of the stretcher and squeezed a lever on the back of it causing the head to rise into a more upright position. Amita used that moment to collect herself a little before she continued to speak in a hoarse articulation that was much more whisper than voice. "He was punishing me for... indiscretions."

Both the Eppes brothers looked at her with confusion on their faces, but Don had moved into Agent mode. He wanted to ask her what had happened but he was reluctant to do so in front of Charlie given his reaction to the suggestion of a rape kit. She was still clinging to Charlie, however, and he wasn't actually supposed to be the one getting a statement from Amita. Then the thought of Prig being the one to take her statement made him decide to ignore protocol. Don's voice became very soft and he moved so that he was at eye level with her.

"He was punishing you? Amita, do you know who did this to you?"


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N** - Ladybug456 Gets the prize for noticing Officer Prig's name. The actual definition of Prig is:  
prig: _noun_ - a person who displays or demands of others pointlessly precise conformity, fussiness about trivialities, or exaggerated propriety, esp. in a self-righteous or irritating manner.  
The names of the Indian men in this tale also have specific meanings. For instance _Aditi_ means first born.  
As always thank you for taking time to post feedback.  
Alice I

**Chapter Four**

Amita understood that Don had misinterpreted what she'd said. She wasn't trying to be difficult or untruthful, but she didn't want to upset Charlie either.

"It's... not that. This was... an Indian matter. I didn't know him, but he _was_ Indian. When he spoke his accent was heavy. I've never seen him before; at least I don't think I have. He had a mask on."

Don had interviewed many victims in his day and he clearly recognized the signs. Her eyes darted over to Charlie then back down quickly. She let go of him and put her hands together in her lap and swallowed repeatedly. Even though the swallowing was most likely due to the pain associated with being half strangled, Don was trained to notice the subtle signs that she was displaying. It was clear to him that Amita did not want to talk in front of Charlie about this. Perhaps she _had_ been raped and she just wouldn't talk about it in front of him.

"Charlie, you really should go and get checked out by the doctor. Your face looks like it could use an x-ray."

Charlie looked up at him nonplussed and said, "What?"

There was no delicate way to put this so Don simply stepped forward and spoke as the SAC. "I need you to step out now, Charlie. I will want to talk to you as well, but you know perfectly well that I have to hear these statements separately."

Charlie put his arm around Amita's shoulder's protectively. "I'm not leaving her, and you have no business asking me to."

Amita's head snapped up which caused her to reach for her neck as pain flared through it. She made a weak whining sound before she looked from one brother to the other. The last thing that she wanted was to be the cause of any trouble between these two men. "No!" she, croaked. She tried to clear her throat again and swallowed hard then said, "I'm... I'll be okay. Charlie, please go get checked out."

Charlie looked at her doubtfully, "Are you sure?"

She reached out and took his hand in hers and gave it a small squeeze. She also decided that the effort of trying to speak was simply more than her throat or voice were up to so she whispered quietly causing both men to have to lean close to hear her.

"I'll be fine." She reached up and very gently touched Charlie's face where the bruising was growing darker. "You saved me tonight."

Charlie leaned a little closer and kissed her very lightly on the lips before he straightened up and eyed his brother. The doctor and the nursing staff were still standing close by and the doctor stepped forward now.

"I understand that you need to get a statement... officer?"

Don realized that they had simply come in and effectively pushed the medical staff aside. He really wanted to get Amita's statement before officer Prig arrived but he didn't want to delay treatment for the young woman either and so extended his hand to the doctor. "I'm sorry, Doctor, I'm Special Agent Don Eppes with the FBI. I suppose I need to let you take care of Amita before I speak with her."

The doctor seemed to pick up on the vibe that Don was working on a time line. He took in the state of his patient now as compared to how she was when he had first tried to examine her. She was much calmer and the initial side effects of the Compazine seemed to be subsiding. The gentleman with the possible orbital fracture needed attention as well so he decided to give the agent the time he needed since Amita was now relatively calm. Checking the chart to make sure he had his patient's name correct, the doctor said, "If Miss Ramanujan is alright with speaking to you, I can take this young man to exam room three and treat his injuries while I wait for her blood work to come back."

Amita nodded her approval and the doctor in turn nodded to his nurse who stepped from the room to get paperwork started on the new patient while Charlie reluctantly followed the doctor away from Amita's room. Don pulled out his notebook and opened it up. He would have to turn Amita's statement over to Prig but not before he got his own idea of what had happened. He was sure he didn't want Prig involved with interviewing Amita, who was clearly in no emotional state to deal with his pompous overblown ego. Don sat down in a chair next to the stretcher; he didn't want to push but getting this statement before Prig decided to make an appearance motivated him to move forward.

"You look like you're in pain, are you sure you're up to this right now, sweetheart?"

Amita instinctively raised her hand to her neck. She _was_ in pain but she also wanted to get this done while Charlie was out of the room and being treated. The look of rejection that colored his features a few months ago when she spoke to him about her father's view points concerning her dating a non-Indian were still etched in her mind. She did not want him to ever look that way again and if he knew that now someone else had taken it upon themselves to judge their relationship she was unsure how he would handle that mere days before he met her parents. She nodded her head and looked Don straight in the eye.

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Alright, I want to go back to something you said. You said that it was an _Indian_ matter. What did you mean by that?"

Amita took a moment, breathing more rapidly as the last hour flashed through her mind. She gripped her hands together tightly in her lap as she bowed her head while the memory of the attack washed over her. Her voice was shot and she was left to whisper softly so Don found that he had to move very close to her to hear what she was saying.

"I may have grown up here in southern California, but my family comes from deep tradition; even to the point that as a child, my parents arranged for me to be married to an Indian man who is now a banker in Goa."

Don sat back shocked at this statement. "You're engaged to be married?"

Amita could see the shock in Don's eyes along with something else that almost made her stop. It was clear to her that Don felt protective at that moment, not of her, but of Charlie. She shook her head gently as she held the side of her neck for support.

"No! Don, no I'm not really engaged, at least not in my mind. I would never marry him. I hardly know that man and what I do know is not particularly pleasant. The point is, that it's custom; it's tradition for a woman to be mated by the arrangement of either her parents or brothers, _and_ to another Indian. Here, in this country, I have never adhered to the strict customs of my heritage. Dating Charlie... being with him can be seen as a act of dishonor... almost a sacrilege to some."

She had to stop for a moment. Even though she was only speaking in a soft whisper it left her drained. She was sitting forward so that only her lower back was against the upturned head of the stretcher. She drew her knees up to her chest under the sheets in a childlike protective posture. Don made sure to lean his head forward while making sure he didn't physically invade her personal space. It was so clear that she felt vulnerable and he chided himself for his initial shocked expression when she shared the information of her parents archaic betrothal custom. After gathering herself for a few moments Amita looked at Don as her chin rested on her drawn up knees. This gave her neck a little support. Her head was beginning to feel like it was far too heavy for her neck to hold up.

"The man who attacked me... he is very obviously Indian because he spoke with a heavy accent, and he used certain curses that marked him as an extreme traditionalist." She couldn't help the tears that dropped down her face as she continued in a barely audible whisper. "He strangled me, he punched me, he spit in my face, but he never took off his gloves. He wouldn't touch me with his bare skin. When I went to India with my grandmother, I knew almost nothing about my own heritage. I learned about some of the most beautiful aspects of my culture but I also saw some things that disturbed me. I learned about a darker side that isn't discussed openly. My grandmother wouldn't talk to me about some of the things that I discovered... about how women are treated, about the dowry system, about the death toll among married women or female infanticide. I saw some women who were scarred, they had veils over their faces but not their eyes."

Amita stopped again and shivered violently as she thought about what she had learned through research. She wasn't about to discuss this with Don or anyone else for that matter but especially not Charlie. The puckered tissue around deep brown, troubled eyes had haunted her dreams from time to time after she returned to the United States from her trip to India, but she had not seen those eyes in her dreams in quit a while. She wondered if they would return tonight when she fell asleep. She hoped not because coupled with the memory of what her attacker said to her would be the fodder for a ghoulish nightmare. Her eyes became unfocused and she seemed to shrink before Don's very eyes as though she were trying to become too small to be seen. She remembered so clearly that she could actually smell her attacker's breath as he moved close to her and spat in her face. His hate filled words came back in a rush. _"You have dishonored your family and your body with that filthy bhadkhau Sewwer ki bachi!"_

Amita hadn't realized that she had repeated the curse aloud in a strangled whisper until Don asked her what bhadkhau Sewwer ki bachi meant. She looked up with emotion in her eyes that showed shades of fear, but more importantly he could clearly see shame, which only served to confuse him. It was obvious that Amita's attacker didn't think she should be dating Charlie, but Don wasn't sure why _she_ would feel shame over that. He knew that she cared deeply for Charlie, he believed that she did actually love him, so seeing her face redden and her eyes cast down in shame over what this man said about Charlie made no sense to him. He would have expected defiance, anger, even fear, but not shame.

"It... doesn't really matter. It's a foul thing to say and I'm not sure I would get the translation right anyway. I'm sorry, this isn't about Charlie, it's about me, it's about someone thinking that I have shamed my family and some arcane sense of what is right or proper. The last thing I want is for Charlie to be hurt by this. He doesn't deserve this... to be judged because of his heritage or mine."

Don was already forming some ideas as to who this attacker could be and he would be sure to follow this case very closely.

"Is there anything you can tell me about this man? Were you able to see any identifying marks on him like a tattoo or a scar?"

Amita started to shake her head but stopped abruptly and looked up with something close to triumph in her expression. "Yes! I cut him."

That got Don's attention. "You cut him? Where and how?"

"I had my car keys in my hand. I used them to cut his face just under his left eye; it even cut the ski mask he wore a little bit, but not enough for me to get a good look at his face. He became enraged when I did that so I'm sure there's blood on the keys. That should help you find him right?"

"There will be a mark on his face and DNA on the keys. He may even need to seek medical attention if you cut him deeply enough."

The observation that her attacker may need medical attention seemed to bring the young woman into a state of alarm. She looked anxiously past Don out into the ER to see if there were any patients walking around with cuts on their faces. Don saw the panic enter her eyes and he reached for her hands bringing her attention back to him.

"I promise you that he will never get near you again." Her eyes traveled back over his shoulder until he gently turned her face toward him again. "Do you believe me?" He waited for her to nod her head then he said, "Do you have any idea where those keys are now?"

"I... I don't know. I had them in my hand the whole time. I remember the feeling of my office key digging into the skin between my fingers, but then..." She turned her hand in his and spread her fingers apart. Just as she had described there was a reasonable cut in the webbed skin between her middle and ring finger.

Don took her hand in his and held it. "What happened next?" he prodded gently.

"He screamed at me, called me... a whore and punched me in the face. I'm sure I still had my keys in my hand when my head hit the wall and I passed out."

More tears dropped from her eyes as she gingerly touched her cheek where the man had punched her, wincing at the light touch and her shoulders began to shake with her silent sobs. Don made a note to ask Charlie about the keys. She may not have been sexually assaulted but the attack had still left her feeling violated. Don gently wiped the tears from her unbruised cheek as he encouraged her to lie back and rest.

"The doctor still needs to examine you. I'll give your statement to the PPD officer who shows up to see you, but you realize you may still have to give another statement don't you?"

Amita closed her eyes and nodded mutely. "Listen to me Amita, if you want me to come in here and be with you while the police speak to you, all you have to do is ask."

She laid her head back against the pillow with her eyes still closed. "Thank you, Don."

She looked as though she were about to fall asleep when the nurse from before came back in and roused her. Don turned and headed for the cubicle that Charlie was taken to, relieved to hear Amita cooperating with the hospital staff. She had gotten past her initial hysteria which was comforting to know.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five 

As soon as Charlie caught sight of Don he bolted from the side of the stretcher. He had refused to lie down during his examination and instead sat on the side.

"How is she?"

Don moved into the cubicle, but Charlie seemed to be uncomfortable with sitting on the stretcher and paced nervously waiting for Don to start talking.

"She's doing a lot better, Buddy. Listen, Charlie, I need you to think back for a minute. Can you tell me exactly what you witnessed when you and Larry came around the corner and saw Amita and her attacker standing over her?"

Charlie stopped pacing and looked at Don who placed a hand on his shoulder and guided him toward a short plastic chair that was sitting against the wall of the small cubicle.

Charlie sat down frowning with concentration, his eyes becoming focused inward as though he were trying to see the scene played out like some surreal film parading across his memory.

"As we came closer to the corner of the building we both noticed the smell of gasoline. I remember we looked at each other just as we came around the corner. I'm pretty sure Larry saw her first because as I looked at him he was looking ahead and he brought his hand up to his mouth. He looked shocked and I turned to see what he was staring at."

Charlie stopped for a moment and took a deep breath. His voice was a little shaky but he continued. "She was lying on the ground and wasn't moving at all. I knew it was Amita because her bag was spilled open on the sidewalk. It's that bright red and orange Gucci bag I got for her on her birthday. Anyway the smell of the gas was so strong, and this man said something then spit on her. I don't remember starting to run toward him, I just remember feeling intense anger when he did that; then he raised his hand and opened something. When I saw the flame I realized what was about to happen and fear took over the anger for a minute. I knew I was never gonna get there in time!"

Charlie's voice had become more frantic and his breathing increased as he relived the events of the evening, but Don didn't stop him, he just wrote down key points as his brother continued to speak.

"The only thing I could do was to throw my cane at him. I tried to calculate distance, and trajectory, but I was so scared! Don, I had to get this right or she was gonna die! I think I must have yelled because he looked up at me right as I let go of the cane. I got lucky, the cane hit his hand and the lighter flew out of his grasp and landed away from her. That's when the anger came back. What I felt... Don it was primal, that bastard tried to kill her! I never slowed down, I just ran right at him. I was gonna..."

Charlie stopped speaking and stared up at his brother. The look in the young man's expressive eyes was hard to read. Don thought he saw fear, but there was something else, something buried under the shock of what had happened.

"What, Charlie? What were you gonna do?"

The cold hatred that hardened his brother's eyes in that moment sent a chill right down to Don's core. He had seen this kind of anger, this level of rage before. In his line of work, many a hardened criminal would try to unnerve Don with an expression of savage hatred unsuccessfully, but now, coming from his gentle younger brother he felt more than a little disturbed. This simply was not something Don had ever been prepared for in association with Charlie, and when the young man answered his question alarm bells started sounding like klaxons in his mind.

"I was going to kill him, Don. If he hadn't clocked me, and gotten away I swear to you, as God as my witness, I would have strangled that son of a..." 

"Charlie!" By this time Charlie was breathing heavily and his face was flushed with emotion. Don didn't want him to continue down that path of thought. He had seen this kind of anger fester and eat men alive and he was damned if he would let that happen to Charlie. He placed his hands on his brother's shoulders and squeezed them until the young man looked up into his eyes.

"Listen to me, Buddy. This is not who you are. Fear, adrenalin, and no small amount of anger fueled your actions tonight, but this incident doesn't define you. You reacted the way any of us would have. Do you get me, Charlie? That's not the guy you are."

All of the tension that had built up during his re-telling of what had happened seemed to shatter like waves crashing over a break wall. Charlie hung his head feeling shame well up in place of the primal fury that captured his heart only a moment ago. Before he could start beating himself up, however, Don intervened with a question to refocus his brother's thoughts.

"Let me ask you something, when you came around the corner was the lighter the only thing in this guy's hands?"

That question not only had to be answered, but it also had the desired effect. It stopped Charlie in his tracks and he frowned in puzzlement.

"I think so... why?"

"Amita told me that she cut his face with her keys. That means that there should be DNA that could help us find him."

Charlie was shaking his head as he tried to remember every detail. He looked up alarmed. "That's right! There was blood on his face, I remember now. His left cheek was bleeding, but she didn't have keys with her or even near her. Her office and apartment keys were on that ring! If he took those keys then he can still get to her. She needs protection, Don." 

"Now let's not jump to any conclusions. Those keys could have dropped from her hand as she lost consciousness and they could have been kicked away from her. I'll check with the PPD evidence guys and see if they were found."

"What? PPD? This isn't going to be an FBI case? I want her to have FBI protection until this guy is found or at least her keys are recovered."

Charlie was getting that stubborn glint in his eye. Don completely understood how his brother felt but it was already clear that Prig wasn't about to allow the FBI to take over this case.

"Buddy, I'm sorry, this is under the jurisdiction of the local police department, which means Pasadena PD. The officer in charge of the case is named Prig."

Seeing that Charlie was about to launch into an angry tirade, Don held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Hey, Buddy, look I have already spoken to Prig, and he has no intention of letting me or the team anywhere near his case. It just isn't an FBI matter." 

The steel in Charlie's eye didn't shock Don at this point, but he was a little surprised by his brother's next words.

"Then make it an FBI matter, Don!" 

With that Charlie stood up and stalked over to the exam cubicle's threshold as far from Don as he could get. He looked in the direction of Amita's room but he could see that the nurse and now the doctor were with her. Don stepped up behind Charlie and spoke quietly.

"It's not that easy, Charlie..."

Charlie spun around so quickly to face Don that the agent actually backed up a step.

"Why the hell not? Amita is an FBI consultant. Would you do any less if it were me?"

Don had to stop for a moment at that. Charlie had a valid point. If it had been him who had been attacked and nearly killed, Don would have made damned sure it was an FBI case. Why should it be any different for Amita? She was also a consultant, although she consulted far less often than Charlie did. She didn't have that same feeling as being a part of the team the way Charlie did, but was that more a function of the frequency of her consulting or the fact that she wasn't Don's sibling? This was a bit of a grey area, and he understood why Charlie was so upset about it.

"Listen, Charlie let me look into a few things and see if we can take over jurisdiction. I can't promise anything, Buddy but I'll try okay?"

* * *

By the time someone from the Pasadena police department arrived to take statements from Charlie and Amita, Don had transposed his notes to two other sheets of paper. Much to his relief the officer was not Prig, but a young woman who looked to be in her mid thirties. Officer Mariette Clement was an attractive and soft spoken woman who was so much of a polar opposite to officer Prig that the difference between them was almost comical.

Don saw her head toward Amita's room and moved to intercept. Charlie was off getting a facial x-ray so he didn't feel like he was leaving his brother in the lurch at all. He introduced himself and handed the pages to officer Clement with his most winning smile. Officer Clement looked mildly confused by Don's presence and cocked her head to the side.

"I'm sorry, Agent Eppes, is it? I wasn't told that the FBI had an interest in this case. My C.O. sent me down here to get statements and collect forensic evidence obtained on examination of the patient."

Don thought that perhaps he could get a little further with this woman than he had with Prig and he smiled again as he pulled out his business card and handed it to the her.

"Amita Ramanujan is a consultant for the FBI as is professor Eppes who was attacked as well. Professor Eppes is also my brother and I am here more as a friend and family member than as an FBI agent. I met officer Prig at the college and did offer my office's resources if he would like to utilize them." 

The response that he got was not one he would have expected when officer Clement said in a brusque tone, "Oh I'm sure that offer was well met. Agent Eppes, officer Martin Prig can be a bit of a stick in the mud and he has difficulty playing nicely with others. I am currenly functioning as his partner until his regular partner comes back from medical leave. He and I will be the investigating officers, but it may interest you to know that my commanding officer is NOT Martin Prig, it is Captain Bell White. Prig was simply the officer who was first on the scene. I will extend your offer of assistance to Captain White and make sure he has your card." 

Don breathed a sigh of relief when he heard this. The thought of having to deal with Prig in order to get the information he wanted was not a pleasant contemplation to say the least. He asked officer Clement if he could be kept in the loop on this investigation and she assured him that she would pass that request on, along with his offer of federal resources. They spent a few minutes discussing both of the statements he had taken before officer Clement thanked him again and moved into Amita's room to speak with her.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

A/N - Once again thank you all for your reviews. I do appreciate them.  
I want to say thank you to Michigander for his/her review. Unlike the rather vitriolic review left by another poster, I do not see any problem with what you said in your review. I actually appreciate the fact that you took time out of your day to find a Public Information Officer at the FBI to verify the jurisdictional information. That says so much to me; it tells me that you are interested enough in my little story to do something like that. 100 times thank you for that compliment!  
You are correct in your assumption that I did not research in that direction. I did however speak with one of my betas, ALEO, who works in law enforcement, albeit not in the US. Thanks to your comments I have added some clarification to this chapter. I am very pleased to know that I was actually correct in the area of jurisdiction. Have you considered becoming a beta? It is that dedication to detail that would make you a very good one.

Patty asked a question that I would like to answer.  
_I'm glad it wasn't Officer Prig who showed up at the hospital but I can't keep from wondering just why it wasn't he.  
_Well Patty as ALEO told me, officer Prig would need to stay at the crime scene until all of the forensics was collected and all of the statements were taken because he was the first officer on scene. If he has a partner that would be the person to go to the hospital to get victim statements. Also she explained to me that since this was a violent crime and the victim was a woman and there is no evidence for or against a sexual assault then the officer responding to the hospital should be a woman if at all possible.  
Alice I

**Chapter Six**

When Don wandered back to Charlie's cubicle, Larry and Megan were both there even though Charlie had not been brought back from the x-ray department yet.

"How are they doing?" Larry wanted to know immediately.

"They're both pretty shaken up but no real damage was done, I don't think. Charlie's gonna have a hell of a shiner by tomorrow and Amita may take a few days to get her voice back. Right now she's kinda' hoarse - it's not easy for her to talk so she is basically whispering. Her neck is pretty badly bruised and she has a good sized black eye as well,but I haven't really seen her since she was examined by the doctor. Pasadena PD is in with her now taking a statement."

Don looked up at Megan and pulled out his note pad. "Megan, I need you to try and find something out for me."

Don opened the pad to the page where he had jotted down what Amita quoted her attacker as saying.

"This is spelled phonetically since I don't know Hindi. I need you to find out what this means." he said, as he handed the pad over to her. "It's something the man who attacked Amita called Charlie. I got the distinct feeling that she didn't want him to know about it. She's insisting that she was attacked because of some cultural taboo she committed by dating Charlie. She maintains that the attack wasn't about him, that it was about her, but I have a bad feeling about all of this. If Charlie is the reason she was attacked and he is the one who saved her, I'm worried that he could be a potential target."

Megan took the pad and nodded affirmation. "I think I can get an answer pretty quickly actually, but I'll have to step outside. Where is Charlie anyway?"

"He's down in x-ray getting pictures taken. They said that as busy as it is this evening, it could be awhile before he gets back."

Megan nodded again and turned to leave. Don looked at Larry and asked if he had contacted Alan. Don knew his father would want to be here for both his youngest son and Amita, and he felt a little guilty about not having called him yet. He'd been busy, though, and in the back of his mind he was fairly certain he could count on Larry to get in touch with all the right people.

"You father should be here soon. He spent the afternoon in Orange County and was on his way home when I contacted him."

By the time Charlie had returned from the x-ray department, Colby and David had also been contacted and had arrived. Officer Clement had finished up with Amita and had come to take a statement from Charlie, and while the fact that there were now three FBI agents surrounding her next witness didn't seem to affect Officer Clement, she did make note of the female agent who ducked her head in to get Special Agent Eppes' attention saying that she had a translation for him. She called out to him as he tried to slip out of the cubicle.

"Agent Eppes, I need to speak with you before you leave this evening."

Don nodded his head toward her and turned to leave with Megan. Larry and the others moved out of the cubicle as well. Larry went to Amita's room to check on her while Colby and David followed Don and Megan out the side entrance to the ER's ambulance bay.

Megan handed Don's pad back to him as she spoke. "Amol Barruke is a friend of mine who I met through my sister, Miriam. She has spent a fair amount of time in India for the consulting firm she works for. Amol told me that the words used to describe Charlie really was more of a slam against Amita than against him, although it wasn't a very pleasant thing to say. The problem is, it isn't really a racial slur. No ethnic background was mentioned at all. Loosely translated it means 'son of a pig who pays for the services of a prostitute' with Amita being the prostitute.

"Don, she may be right in feeling that this attack had nothing to do with Charlie. This man would most likely have said the same thing about any man that Amita could have been dating. I know that there are traditionalist factions in India who treat women as less than human beings. When my sister went to India on business trips she was assigned a corporate escort because even in Bangalore it was not safe for her to drive or walk unescorted by a man in the city after dark. Some of the most horrifying atrocities on record against women have been committed in India. The stories are terrifying - women being burned by throwing kerosene on them and lighting them on fire, or even worse is the fact that now many women are being disfigured with sulfuric acid. It's a common household product in India, much the same way bleach is a common product here. I suppose we should thank God that Amita's attacker is more traditional and tried to burn her rather than throw a gallon of acid all over her."

When Megan had finished telling them what her contact had told her all three men felt sickened. If this attacker had covered her with acid she would most likely not have survived. The ramifications to Charlie - to all of them - would have been, _could_ have been so much worse.

Colby said in a clear voice brimming with anger, "Can't this be classified as a hate crime, Don, making it Federal jurisdiction? This is something that _we_ should be working on. We _are_ the Violent Crimes Unit and if this doesn't qualify as a violent crime or a crime of hatred then I don't know what does."

Don looked back toward the ER and nodded absently. "You know what legally constitutes a 'hate crime' as well as I do, Colby. If the insult had any kind of racial overtones we could have insisted on federal intervention, but as it is we still don't have a clear jurisdictional right here. I have offered our assistance in this and I will be contacting AD Wright as soon as we leave here. The Commanding Officer on this case with the Pasadena PD is Captain Bell White. I'll see if I can get Wright to talk to him and have us work together. Both Charlie and Amita are our people. They consult for us and that makes both of them a part of our team.

"David, I want you to start canvassing the emergency rooms around town, but be discreet. Amita slashed this guy with her keys under his left eye. Colby, you take the free and after-hours clinics.Megan, can you try to work with officer Clement? I'll introduce you when we go back in. I don't want to step on any toes, but I also want it to be clear that we are not going to just go away. My father should be here soon and I want to stay with Charlie and Amita. This guy may have her keys and therefore have access to her home and office. I think she should stay at Charlie's place and that is where I'll be as well. Look folks, as of right now, we are doing this on our own time, this is still PPD jurisdiction, but..."

David clapped Don on the shoulder. He had a fierce look on his face. "No worries, we're all on board, Don. We'll get this guy, guaranteed."

David's sentiments were echoed by everyone present and it made Don smile. He really did have the best team of agents in the entire LA basin, and the bastard who attacked one of their own would soon find that out. Don had every intention of bringing the full power and resources of the Federal Bureau of Investigation to bear in finding and prosecuting the man who had done this.

Both David and Colby slipped away to perform their respective tasks while Don went back to Charlie's cubicle with Megan. Officer Clement was just finishing up with Charlie as they arrived. She handed her card to Charlie in case he remembered anything else about the attack and stood up. She saw Don and Megan and turned directly to them.

Don stepped over to the Pasadena police officer and said, "Officer Clement, this is Special Agent Megan Reeves. She has some insight that might be helpful to your investigation."

"Pleasure to meet you Agent Reeves." she said as she extended her hand. "I take it you have a translation of the slur used by Professor Ramanujan's attacker?"

Don realized that she was only doing her job and being direct but he could have killed her for asking that in front of Charlie. Charlie's head snapped up and he came off the edge of the stretcher quickly.

"Slur? What are you talking about? What slur?"

Don glared at Officer Clement, who had the decency to look somewhat abashed, and stepped over to Charlie. "It's just something in Hindi that the man who attacked Amita said to her. He had a pretty foul mouth and I guess he called her a few nasty names. Tell me what the x-rays showed..."

Don had placed a hand on his brother's shoulder and steered him away from Megan and Officer Clement. Megan understood the non-verbal que and beckoned the PPD officer out into the ER Lobby. She sat down with Officer Clement and shared what she had found out about the Hindi insult as well as some of her profiler's insights about the attacker and his possible motivations. It was only another ten minutes after the two women entered the ER waiting lounge that a disheveled Alan walked in. Megan looked up somewhat surprised by the older man's appearance.

"Alan! My goodness you look like you ran here. What happened to you?"

Alan smoothed down his windblown hair the best he could and straightened his tie. "My window's motor decided to break. I had the window rolled down when I got stuck in traffic and when things started moving again I couldn't get it to close. A little wind wasn't gonna slow me down, though." He noticed the police officer standing with Megan and extended his hand in greeting. "Hello, I'm Alan Eppes, Charlie's father."

"Hello, Mr. Eppes. I'm Officer Mariette Clement. You should be proud of your son, he was quite the hero tonight." she reached into her pocket and handed Alan one of her cards. "I can't discuss too much with you until we have more information, but I can tell you that Professor Amita Ramanujan was attacked at CalSci this evening and your son ran off her attacker. I have only just taken statements from both of them. I or I'm sure one of your son's agents will make sure you are kept up to date with the investigation, but please feel free to contact me if you have any questions."

Alan had a lot of questions but he realized that they would not be forthcoming from Officer Clement, at least not at the moment, so he simply took the card and thanked her. She turned to Megan and said, "Well if you'll excuse me I've to go and file my reports. Thank you for your assistance, Agent Reeves, and I'll call you as soon as I've spoken to Captain White."

Alan watched the young woman leave then turned back to Megan for some real answers. "Where are the boys? Are Charlie and Amita alright? Larry wasn't too specific on the phone. What really happened?"

Megan filled Alan in about everything that had occurred leaving out some of the details of the attack and what was said by the man who hurt Amita. If the young woman didn't want Charlie to hear the remarks then she didn't think she would want Alan to either. Alan was anxious to see both of them and found that was easy enough, since Charlie had gone back to Amita's room as soon as the medical staff was finished with her examinations.

As a precaution she had been put into a soft neck collar. She had had a CT scan of her neck to be certain that no bones had been effected by the strangulation. The ER doctor had considered admitting her overnight for observation but since she had maintained consciousness and the CT of her head had come back clear for signs of brain trauma, hematoma or bleeding he allowed her to be released as long as she stayed with someone. He was immediately assured that she would be staying in a house full of concerned family who would wake her every four hours.

Having the Eppes men refer to themselves as concerned family in relation to her made Amita smile in spite of her current circumstances. She felt so lucky to be in love with a man like Charlie and to have such wonderful friends, that she almost started crying again. She had been unsure of how she would deal with her father where Charlie was concerned, but now all of that seemed so trivial and unimportant. Charlie was the man who she loved and the man with whom she intended to spend the rest of her life. Her parents would simply have to find some way to come to terms with her decision.The nervousness that had plagued her for the last week about the arrival of her father and her indecision about staying at Charlie's house melted away. She wondered, not for the first time, how she had managed to allow her father's prejudices to seep into her own feelings and actions. With her heart warmed by love she wrapped an arms around Charlie's waist as he stood next to the stretcher she was on while the doctor went over discharge instructions for both of them. She rested her head against his chest and sighed, feeling the warmth of his embrace begin to push the fear and horror of the evening's attack aside.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N -** I hope everyone has a lovely Easter. I thank you all kindly for your reviews and comments.  
I actually have a request of anyone willing to help. Click on my profile page and visit my forum - Calling All Authors. There is a thread there called _Shameless plugs & requests for community participation_. I have put a request on that thread for my ten year old daughter. She needs your votes. I would be ever so grateful for any help that you may wish to offer.  
Alice I

**Chapter Seven**

Alan drove Amita and Charlie home from the hospital having made arrangements with Larry to pick up Charlie's car from the campus parking lot the next morning. Don wanted someone with Charlie and Amita the whole time so Megan followed Alan after saying goodbye to Larry who drove back to her place in his own vehicle. The young couple sat in the back seat of the car clinging to each other, and Alan found that the broken window actually worked to his advantage because the smell of gasoline still permeated the young woman's hair. The cool evening air swirled around and Amita shivered in the thin hospital scrubs that had been provided for her. Charlie took off the windbreaker that Don had given him to wear over the sweat suit and draped it around her shoulders before wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close to his chest. He didn't like the smell either, but he wasn't about to let go of her. As hard as she tried to keep from crying again Amita couldn't hold back the emotions running through her. She felt more cared for than she had ever felt in her life as the man she loved cradled her in his arms protectively, yet the horror of the attack kept popping up in her mind like an insistent insect that refused to go away. She would almost be to the point of being comfortable when suddenly the smell of her attacker's breath or the hiss of his voice would seem so clear and so real that she shuddered uncontrollably from the vivid memory that took on the illusion of reality.

She managed to get herself under control by the time Alan pulled into the driveway of the Craftsman home. Neither her sobs nor her sudden shudders were lost on Charlie who vowed to himself that he would find whomever had done this and make him pay dearly. His jaw clenched tightly as raw vengeance roiled through him. There was a part of Charlie's psyche that recognized this desire for revenge to be counter-productive, even dangerous, but that voice of reason was drowned out by the rage surging like liquid fire through his veins. Only his affinity for logic, and Amita's fragile presence in his arms allowed him to keep this unfamiliar emotion under control. Now that they had arrived home and Megan had helped Amita to the bathroom to shower properly, and get the last of the gasoline out of her hair, the effect of her presence dissipated and Charlie made a beeline for the garage.

Standing stock still in the middle of the garage surrounded by his work, a surreal sort of dizziness made him stagger slightly as he reeled with rage that he didn't know how to process. This was foreign territory for him. The blackboard stood like a silent bastion in front of him, covered in what would normally have been a refuge of numbers.Without conscious thought he walked to the board and attempted to work on his Cognitive Emergence, but to no avail. What he really wanted to do was to physically pummel the man who had hurt Amita, and before he even realized what he was doing, he curled his hand into a fist and punched the blackboard so hard that he put a large crack in the surface spitting his knuckles in the process. This feeling that the young man was engulfed by was so powerful he failed to hear his brother enter the room or to feel the pain in his hand as his knuckles began to bleed. He felt only an inundation of unfettered emotion as he cocked his fist back again.

Don arrived shortly after Alan and Megan, having stayed back long enough to contact AD Wright and explain the situation. He surmised where Charlie was after Alan explained that the girls were upstairs in the bathroom and he made his way to the garage. He stepped through the door way just in time to see his brother smash his fist into the blackboard. Before Charlie could hit it a second time Don quickly moved up behind him and grabbed his arm, surprised by the strength he felt. Charlie was not a weak man, but he had never before possessed enough upper body strength to give Don a run for his money in wrestling. At that moment in time, however, Don was unsure that he would have stood a chance against his younger sibling. Charlie was in a blind rage at this point and pivoted on his good leg so that he spun around facing Don. The sudden movement caught the agent off guard causing Don to let go of Charlie's arm, much to his regret, for a second later Charlie landed a solid punch to Don's jaw making him stagger backward. 

"Charlie!"

Don's cry of pain and surprise snapped Charlie from the tempest in his mind that was robbing him of sight and reason. He realized what he had done as his brother stood there holding his jaw and looking at him with disbelief. Guilt crashed over him like a torrent and he reached out to Don.

"Oh, God! Don, I'm sorry. I didn't... Are you all right? I didn't mean to hurt you, I didn't know it was you... I..."

"Charlie, stop. Look, I'm fine, but you're not. This fury; Buddy, this is not healthy."

Don reached out and took Charlie's hand, holding it up as evidence of his reckless behavior. Charlie could see the blood trickling between his fingers where he had split his knuckles on the black board and his eyes grew wide when he saw what his brother was showing him. He turned his head and looked, growing even more astonished when he saw the long crack running down the board in a jagged diagonal line. The board was now useless and would have to be thrown away, but that wasn't what made the rage begin to build again with in him. This man had come into their lives and nearly destroyed them. The desire to make him pay began to well up in Charlie once more as he looked at the blackboard and once again his hand curled into a fist. He snatched his hand from Don's grasp and walked away from him.

"Don't you see what's happening here, Charlie? I understand how you feel..."

Charlie spun around with a dangerous look in his eye but Don continued over any protestations his younger brother might have.

"...And before you get all self-righteous on me - I really do understand how you feel, more than you may realize. I've lost people I cared for through violence and crime and you know that."

Charlie was indeed about to tell Don that he was full of shit and didn't know what he was feeling but then he remembered Nikki Davis and Leah Wexford. He looked down at his bleeding fist and saw that yes, indeed,his hand was curled up into a fist. He wanted to release the anger - he intellectually understood how destructive it was - but it just wouldn't go. He turned to look at Don, and his brother seemed to understand what he was feeling without Charlie trying to verbalize what was going on inside his heart.

"You need to bleed off some of this emotion, Charlie. I know what that feels like. It's one of the reasons I go down to the cages when I have a lot on my plate. Pull it together for now, Buddy. Let's get Amita settled and then I'll take you down to the gym. We can hit the bag some or we could do a little sparring; as long as I see it coming I'm sure I can avoid another crack to the jaw." That comment drew a crooked smile from Charlie which helped to loosen the knot of anxiety inside of Don. "But the first thing we need to do is get that hand cleaned up before Amita sees it."

Bringing up her name did the trick. Don could actually see the veil drop down over Charlie's features. He was going to bottle this up for now and take care of her. Don wondered briefly if his face betrayed that transition as vividly as his brother's. When they stepped into the kitchen from the garage Don simply gave their father a look and a shake of his head. The last thing Charlie needed at that moment was their father questioning him about what had happened to his hand. Alan shook his head sadly as he took a tray with tea out to the living room.

Once Amita was out of the shower and dressed in one of Charlie's sweat suits, Megan helped her down to the living room and got her settled on the couch.Alan had prepared chamomile tea for her with some lemon to help with the sore throat. 

"How are you feeling my dear?" Alan asked as Amita settled on the couch.

"I'm feeling better now, thanks." 

Amita's voice was no longer just a whisper but it was still very raspy and it she looked uncomfortable when she spoke. Handing Amita the hot cup of tea Alan saw the bottles of prescription medication sitting on the table that Don had filled for her at the after-hours pharmacy. He picked them up and peered at the labels. 

"Should you be taking one or both of these?"

After taking a sip and allowing it to sooth her raw throat she turned her attention to her host. "No I don't think I will take anything just now. The anti-anxiety medication could react to the anti-nausea medication they gave me at the hospital. The pain medication I can take, but after that long hot shower I feel a little better and I'd just as soon not take it unless I have to."

Amita stared at the bottles in Alan's hands with a degree of loathing. The reason for the anti-anxiety medication was clear enough. The mild concussion caused by hitting her head on the brick wall of the Math and Science building caused her to retch violently upon arrival at the ER. The stench of the gasoline hadn't helped any. This had led to the increased hysteria she had initially experienced, especially once she was surrounded by strangers, hence the prescription for the anti-anxiety medication. But she was given nausea medication to stop the retching, which had a rather disconcerting side effect; an antsy feeling that was like having restless leg syndrome all over her body. The doctor had explained that this was one of the reasons why she kept clutching herself or clinging to Charlie. She wasn't inclined to ever take this anti-nausea medication again because from her perspective it may have stopped the nausea but it increased her level of anxiety ten fold.

Don meanwhile got Charlie's hand cleaned up and luckily the split in the skin was minor. A couple of knuckle band-aids did the trick. They both made their way into the living room where Alan was fussing over Amita,tucking an afghan over her legs as she sat stretched out on the sofa. Even with the neck collar and large black eye Charlie was stunned by how lovely Amita was and felt the anger seething just under the surface slip a little deeper as a feeling of love and a desire to protect her took precedence. Charlie stepped stiffly past Megan and over to the couch while Don motioned for his fellow agent to follow him out into the dining room.

"Do you think you could stay here for a little while? I'm gonna take Charlie over to Amita's place to pick up some clothes and essential items. I'm sure she's safe here, but..."

Megan nodded as she looked back at the couple. Charlie sat down on the edge of the sofa, his weak leg stretched out in front of him, and took Amita's hands as they spoke softly to each other, their foreheads almost touching. The tension in his shoulders and the bandages on his knuckles that had not previously been there were not lost on the profiler's trained eye.

"I don't mind at all." She turned back to Don and said, "He needs to release some of that emotion, Don."

"I'm way ahead of you, Megan. I was planning on stopping by the gym on the way back so he could punch the bag for a half hour or so to bleed off some of the rage he's feeling. As it is, he is out one perfectly good blackboard and he may need another x-ray." 

Megan raised her eyebrows at that but refrained from saying anything. It seemed that Don and Charlie were alike in more ways than one.

* * *

Jitendra Pankajakshan slipped the key into the lock silently as he looked around once again to be certain that no one had seen him come into Amita Ramanujan's apartment building. He knew that he could not go to any local hospital to have the cut on his face dealt with for fear of being discovered. He managed to get the worst of the bleeding stopped in a public restroom where he could flush the paper toweling he used to mop up the blood. He had a first aid kit in his van but didn't have large enough bandages to cover the nearly two inch gash that the woman's keys had cut into his cheek. He had no choice but to go to a pharmacy and buy some bandaging material. He used some medical tape to secure a folded piece of paper towel over the cut and pulled his ball cap down low over his face. The girl at the register stared at him as he paid cash for the bandaging, antibiotic cream, and ibuprofen, but she didn't say anything to him. He had chosen a pharmacy that was not near either the college or the woman's apartment hoping that his purchase would go unnoticed and not be investigated.

The rage that filled him from being bested by an insolent woman drove him forward recklessly. Entering her apartment on the same night that he had attacked her was foolhardy,but the anger bubbling within him drove him to ignore reason and he went to her home heedless of the danger inherent in that action. He needed to find something he could use to get to her without being caught for he had no intention of being thrown into a filthy American jail surrounded by dogs and the unclean depraved malefactors of this corrupt nation.

The door opened easily and he slipped inside, but rather than turning on any lights Jitendra pulled out a small pen light and shone it around. There was no point in announcing the presence of anyone inside an apartment that should be empty. The sun had gone down but there was still enough light on the horizon from the setting sun to illuminate the apartment enough that he could easily navigate without falling over furniture. It only took his eyes a few moments to adjust to the dim light in the room so the pen light was more for investigating the papers and mail scattered around the room than for the ability to move with stealth and ease. 

A quick inspection of the apartment caused him to make a sound of disgust. No proper woman would live in this squalor. There were dirty dishes in the sink. A wine glass sat on the counter holding remnants of an evening spent drinking rather than keeping a clean home as any decent woman should. This woman had been corrupted by loose American morals or simply poorly raised by her parents. She had no brothers to keep an eye on her and it showed in the state of the home in which she lived. The couch had clothes piled on one end that had yet to be folded and put away. There were books and papers scattered around the end tables as well as the coffee table. A stack of student papers leaned precariously on the end of the counter that separated the kitchen from the living area.

Jitendra made his way into the kitchen and saw that the garbage pail had old Chinese food boxes piled in it as well as a pizza box tucked against the wall next to the garbage bin. The coffee pot was still half filled with stale coffee and the grounds and filter were still in the top. Jitendra saw that there was a dishwasher available to this woman and opened it only to find it full of dishes that had not been put away yet. This level of laziness would never have been acceptable in his home nor that of any of his family.

Jitendra found himself wrinkling up his nose in revulsion at what he considered a serious lack of cleanliness on the part of Amita Ramanujan. He moved back out to the living room and after glancing through the mail on the coffee table he saw a desk in the corner and made for that.

His eyes were drawn to the upper shelf of the desk where a picture of that man, the Jew-boy, who she was sleeping with was placed carefully. That thought intensified his rage and he slapped the picture face down cracking the glass. He stopped for a moment. The sound was not very loud but he didn't want anyone walking past to hear movement within the darkened apartment. He heard nothing and after a moment resumed his search. He sifted through the papers on the desk only to find what looked like a math test that was in the process of being compiled. Then he saw something that caught his attention peeking out from under a couple of manila folders that were strewn across the upper left hand corner of the desk. There was a large desk-sized date planner in the corner and he pulled that forward, out from under the detritus littering the desktop. Tucked into the flap on the side of the planner was a small spiral bound yellow steno pad with some information jotted down on the top page. 

_Mom and Dad  
Friday  
United 7931 Gate 36  
6:45_

_Romandin Inn  
3900 Wilshire  
Suite 326 _

_Charlie's BBQ  
Saturday 5:00 PM_

Jitendra tore the page from the steno pad and stuffed it in his pocket. He flipped through the pages of the planner looking to see if she had any appointments in the next few days but quickly dismissed that notion. He thought that she might cancel everything after tonight for the next week or so and he had no intention of staying in this country for another couple of weeks. He had been here far to long as it was, sitting in on Amita Ramanujan's classes to learn her daily movements. His open-ended return ticket beckoned him, as he longed for home. 

The sound of loud voices out in the hallway made him freeze. Rather than fumble with the pen light he simply slipped it into his pocket to extinguish the tell-tale illumination and turned his head toward the door as the voices grew louder indicating that they were coming closer.

TBC

**A/N-** I am not sure why, but when I loaded this document many of the spaces between words and sentences disappeared. I think I caught all of them and fixed them, but a apologize if I missed any. Once again have a lovely Easter.  



	8. Chapter 8

**A/N -** Patty B, my husband thought your comment was lovely. He is a man of few words but his cheeks got a little red when I showed him your review.

I would like to thank everyone who voted for Ally in the 5th grader challenge. Unfortunately there was no way she was going to be able to compete with the kids who's parents petitioned the school districts to send out letters to every family in said kid's the school asking for votes, or the kids who parents got them onto local talk radio shows to petition for votes.  
Ally didn't make it into the top eight, sadly, but she does appreciate every vote she got. I guess the old fashioned way (asking friends and family) just couldn't keep pace with kids on the radio asking whole demographic audiences for votes. I have no worries that she will make her mark on the world. I posted a poem that she wrote as an assignment for school in the 'Chat thread' on my forum. It is, in my opinion good enough to publish. I know that she will go far. Who knows, perhaps in a couple of years when she is old enough, you will see her posting fan fiction stories here as well as her momma.  
Thank you again for your support.  
Alice I

**Chapter Eight**

Once again, Charlie sat quietly as Don drove, but this time it was in silent contemplation of his whispered discussion with Amita before they left to go to the young woman's apartment for clothes and a few other personal belongings she had asked for. The feel of her hands in his as he sat next to her on the sofa was like a miracle to Charlie. He had been a second away from losing her tonight and that realization still left him dizzy. He was profoundly relieved that she was not only alive and safe but at his house under the watchful, albeit unofficial, eye of a trained FBI agent. What concerned him was the fact that she had been avoiding staying at his place for the last week and he didn't want her to feel that she was being forced into an uncomfortable situation. Her answer to him was what occupied the mathematician's thoughts during the drive through Pasadena's streets.

_"Hey, are you alright with this... with being here? I could talk to Megan if you would be more comfortable staying with her."_

_Amita raised her hand up and touched his lips lightly with her fingers quieting his speech. She still spoke in a whisper, but it seemed less gravelly than it had before._

_"Charlie I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. The only good thing that came out of this attack... it showed me how stupid I have been."_

_"Hey now, don't say that. You are brilliant, beautiful..." Charlie's voice stopped abruptly as he choked back the raw emotion threatening to erupt. His eyes were soft and shining with love. "You're perfect; you make me whole. What you are **not**, is stupid, so don't say that."_

_"I am stupid, for letting my father's issues cloud my actions, my perceptions. I love you, Charlie, and nothing my father could say would change that. I need to be true to myself, to us. This is where I want to be. This is where I belong."_

Amita's words echoed in his mind over and over, filling him with a warmth that he hadn't really felt before. The burning rage had all but subsided with her words. He still wanted to find the man and bring him to justice, but Amita's acknowledgment that she wanted to stay with him had tempered the rage in an unexpected way. He felt both ebullient and guilty. When she told him 'This is where I want to be' the joy literally bubbled up inside of him like a boiling pot of water, yet he could not forget that it had taken a madman nearly torching her alive to change her mind about living with him. These two emotions juxtaposed were confusing him and he was so immersed in his own thoughts that he didn't hear Don when he spoke the first time.

"Hey, Buddy!"

Charlie turned his eyes to Don who was relieved to see that they no longer seethed with rage.

"You look like you need to talk. Now would be a good time for that, Buddy."

Charlie knew that Don was right and trying to help. He didn't feel like talking at the moment because he didn't understand his own feelings. Glancing down at the bandages on his knuckles, he sighed.

"I don't know what I'm feeling right now, Don. It seems like I've felt every emotion possible in the space of a couple of hours." Charlie paused for a moment. He stared out the window for a moment watching as the trees zipped by, his eyes slightly out of focus as his emotions churned. He wasn't sure he was ready to talk to Don about this thing with Amita. He could however start with something that Don would have a unique ability to understand, having been there himself.

"How do you do it? How do you deal with a rage that borders on madness? Don, I've never felt anything like that before. Sure I've been angry, I've been furious but this... feeling, this blind rage, I don't know how to process it. I'll tell you the truth, it scares me that I can feel the desire, the ability to actually kill someone, but at the same time there is a kind of perverted lure to it. I would never seek out a killer to confront, not normally anyway, but I wanted to find this guy and kill him with my bare hands, Don, and the fact that this guy could probably tear me limb from limb didn't phase me one bit. I don't know if that is because the rage made me feel invincible or heedless of the danger inherent in approaching such a man. There is a certain feeling of power with that kind of rage and honestly, I think that scares me more than feeling the rage itself."

Don looked over at him and Charlie wasn't sure why the look of pride shone in Don's eyes. It made no sense to him that he could confess to feeling the desire to kill someone as a reason to see approval in Don's mind.

"Charlie, you are handling this much better than you realize. You want to know how I do it, how I deal with that kind of rage? As I said before sometimes I'll go down to the cages and hit a ball as hard as I can. Physical activity is the best way to bleed off anger or rage when it has you in a grip like that, but afterwards you can't just let it go. You have to talk about it, and you are. I started seeing Bradford after the Crystal Hoyle case and it took me a lot longer, at least three sessions to come to terms with or even to fully acknowledge this feeling than you just did in the last couple of hours. You still should talk to someone about this though, I don't count."

Charlie looked over at Don with a frown on his face. "Why don't you count?"

"I didn't mean it like that. Yeah, Charlie you should talk to me, to your friends and family, but we are too close to you, too emotionally invested to be objective. You still need the guidance of someone outside your inner circle to give you coping mechanisms that will work in the long term. Your family, your friends we give you the support and comfort that you need, but the tools of recovery have to come from outside."

"Ya know, sometimes I forget that you minored in psychology when you got your degree." Charlie smiled at his brother but his eyes still looked troubled.

"Well since you were so kind to point that out, why don't you tell me what's really bothering you."

Charlie looked up at Don a little startled. He thought that he had very successfully redirected the conversation, but Don was not given to playing that type of game. How many witnesses or suspects had tried to divert Don's attention to no avail? He truly was confused by his emotions concerning Amita's sudden change of heart so he decided that maybe talking to Don would actually be helpful.

"It's Amita... she's been so reluctant to stay at the house the last week or so. It seems that the closer her parents' arrival came the further away from me she would get."

Don's eyebrows shot up showing open surprise on his face. "If she is uncomfortable staying at the house, do you want me to talk to Megan?"

Charlie shook his head with a quirky smile turning up the corners of his mouth. "It's funny how much we can think alike sometimes. I already asked her that, but she said that she wants to stay at the house now, that it's where she belongs."

"Well that's a good thing, Charlie."

"Is it? Don, just three or four hours ago she was headed back to her apartment again rather than come over. Is this fear talking, is that why she changed her mind? Don, I want her to move in with me, we've talked about it a lot. Hell, we were even applying my game theory based on the friendship math to the situation. That was all just a way for us both to get used to the idea; that and we also had to figure out logistics. I mean she isn't crazy about sharing a home with me and Dad. The point is, we've been talking about it, but then as the date of her parents' arrival got closer she started backing away from it altogether. Don, she hasn't spent the night in almost two weeks. So I have to ask myself why she has changed her mind. Is it because of fear or is it because she really wants to be with me?"

Don didn't say anything for a minute. He seemed to be waiting for something and Charlie finally looked over at him.

"Charlie, this isn't my psychology classes talking right now, this is observation and experience. Amita went through a horrific experience tonight, and that kind of trauma is life-changing for most people. She may be a victim of violence, Charlie, but that doesn't define who she is. How she deals with that trauma does."

Charlie recognized that Don was right, what he said made sense but there was a huge part of him that couldn't get past his insecurities about the sudden change in Amita's desire to live with him. As these thoughts clamored for his attention he almost missed that Don had started talking again.

"She seems to be moving closer to the people who love her and embracing that support which is a healthy reaction. I have seen many victims who do exactly the opposite. They withdraw into themselves; they pull away from everyone who loves them. Fear may have been a motivator but what it did was allow Amita to take a hard look at her life and her priorities. The victims of violent crime who move on to a happy and successful life are the ones who can look at their lives and find the value that they were missing before. When you almost lose something precious, you realize what it means to you. This man nearly killed her. Maybe she's looking at her life and realizing that she doesn't care if her parents disapprove of her living with you anymore."

Charlie's head snapped up and he stared incredulously at Don.

"When I spoke to her at the hospital I got the distinct impression from her, that her parents are kind of old fashioned and they might not like finding that their daughter is 'living in sin'. Look Charlie, Amita is reaching out to you for love and comfort, for acceptance without question; don't put caveats on it. Accept it, accept her, and stop over-analyzing this. You'll just drive yourself and her crazy."

"Ya know, Bro, you keep talking like that and you'll end up giving Megan a run for her money in the profiling business. When did you get so smart?"

Don turned the wheel, pulling into the parking lot of Amita's apartment complex and smiled at Charlie.

"Occupational hazard when you have a genius in the family." He parked in the spot for her apartment number, which happened to be close to the rear door. "You got the spare key?"

"Yeah, right here."

Charlie opened the door and slid out, his feet landing softly on the pavement. Don's SUV was a high enough ride that Charlie always had the sensation that he was jumping out of a monster truck and usually felt a boyish impulse to hop down with both feet as though jumping down from a game of King of the Hill. Tonight however the light impact with the pavement sent a sharp spike of pain up his back. He had a sizable bruise from where he had hit the sidewalk after Amita's attacker punched him. He shook it off and limping heavily again, rounded the vehicle headed for the door. Charlie instinctively headed for the stairs but Don reached over and tugged on his sleeve. He pointed to the elevator to the right and raised an eyebrow.

"You've had enough exercise for one day don't you think?"

The fact that Charlie had not recovered his cane from the crime scene and the fact that his limp was more pronounced than he had seen it in quite awhile prompted Don to want to avoid the stairs even if Amita's place was only on the second floor.

Charlie wasn't about to argue with that logic. With his Wenge wood cane in evidence for forensic testing, he hadn't thought about looking around for the cane that he got from the hospital when he was first released. He knew that it was in the house somewhere, most likely sitting in a corner of the garage or attic. He would worry about getting it out tomorrow. He would like his own Wenge wood back but knew that the forensics team needed time to collect evidence first. Officer Clement told him in the hospital that she would bring it by the house when the lab was done with it.

The elevator dinged loudly and the brothers stepped off. Don wasn't sure which apartment was Amita's so he waited for Charlie to step out of the car first to lead the way.

"Her place is down at the end of the hall near the stairwell. You know, I'm a bit nervous about her parents coming now. I don't want to cause her any more heartache and if staying at my house is going to make her father go ballistic then I may still try to talk her into staying with Megan."

Don couldn't help but notice the tone in his brother's voice, which sounded like he was trying to convince himself of something.

"Charlie, Amita's an adult, why don't you let her decide for herself what's..."

Don stopped speaking in mid sentence. His hand shot out stopping Charlie in his tracks as he drew his gun. He turned to look at Charlie and brought his finger up to his mouth to indicate that he should be quiet, then pointed to the door that stood unlocked and open a crack. Charlie felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as his face reflected shock and fear. Don indicated that he should stay well back from the door against the opposite wall in the hallway. For a fleeting moment, the thought ran through his mind that he could now do with some of the bravado that the rage he felt earlier had provided, because at that moment he felt almost paralyzed with fear.

Don stepped forward carefully and eased the door open with his left hand. He checked the corners quickly as he entered the apartment. It was dark inside at this point because the sun had now set, so while scanning the interior of the space for any movement he flipped on the light.

Jitendra stood poised to rush whoever opened the door in order to use surprise as an advantage to get away. The voices drew closer and became louder before they seemed to stop right outside the door. Jitendra's muscles tensed poised to dart forward and he did't hear anything for a moment. Then suddenly he heard a door close on the other side of the hallway. The voices had obviously belonged to whomever resided next door. His senses were heightened as the adrenalin rush began to subside, which is why he was able to hear car doors slam shut outside, so he moved over to the window and looked down. That Jew was getting out of a large black SUV with another man. It was time to get out. They were only a few moments from discovering him so he quickly made his way over to the door and out into the hallway.

He assumed that with only one floor between the men and him they would use the stairs so he headed quickly for the elevator only to stop dead in his tracks when there was a ding and a green arrow lit up indicating that the elevator had arrived on this floor. He turned and ran headlong for the stairwell and just made it with the door not quite closing behind him as the elevator doors opened and the Jew stepped out. He peeked out through a slight crack in the stairwell door to see the two men approach the apartment door. He listened closely to their conversation as they approached, but his blood turned cold when he saw the larger man stop the Jew, push him back against the wall, and pull out a pistol.

Looking back at the apartment door, he swore under his breath. He had not closed it tightly and the larger man had noticed this. Jitendra watched as the man entered the apartment using the skills of a trained law enforcement officer. Once the larger man had entered the apartment, Jitendra slipped silently away from the stairwell door and made his way down the stairs and out the door. Keeping himself close to the wall of the building, he made his way quickly toward the end and around the back corner. He was glad that he had the forethought to park his van around the back of the apartment complex behind the large dumpster. If the Jew had seen the van, he might have recognized it.

This man, this dirty kike who had spoiled the woman, was going to be a problem. He would need to decide what his next best option was. This insult, this sacrilege could not and would not go unanswered. He was talking about the Ramanajuan woman staying at his house so it was obvious that she would not be coming back to her apartment, not while she was sleeping in the bed of that kike. He would need to find out exactly where this man lived, and he knew just where he could find that information. He patted the pocket that contained the woman's keys and turned on the engine. He backed out carefully and drove slowly around the building and out the entrance, turning left and headed back to Cal Sci.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N -** Well I have been sick for over a week now and have done almost no writing. I had originally wanted to have this story completely posted before Friday April 4th because that is when the next new episode of Numb3rs airs. I just know that we will meet Amita's parents if not this week then next week and some basic cannon fact about them will blow this story right out of the water. Kind of like when it turned out Colby's dad couldn't possibly have come and seen him in the hospital in my story Faith in Your Partner because the man died when he was a teenager! OYE! As dHALL so aptly put it - this story is in danger of becoming AU! LOL.

There have been a few folks who've wondered where I got my information. For the Indian names I actually googled a site with Indian baby boy names that had the meanings next to each name. For the facts on the humanities crimes, I note several sources on my profile page including the Indian government. I will repeat what I have said before. This story does have some difficult subject matter, but it is not meant to be disrespectful to anyone Indian or otherwise. The research that was done prior to writing this story was extensive. I spent nearly 3 months researching this topic before I started posting. I will endeavor to answer any questions you may have. If you're review is long and has many questions I will try to e-mail a response rather than to reply directly using the fan fiction site software.

I would like to thank all reviewers for your feedback. Thank you for taking the time to let me know what you think.  
Alice I

**Chapter Nine**

It didn't take Don long to clear the apartment and then allow Charlie to come in. Don had never been to Amita's place but noticed right away that it didn't really look all that different from his own apartment. The door opened to the living room that was moderate in size with what looked like an office nook in the far corner. The furniture was less like his own. Amita had what one would typically expect to see in a grad student's dormitory. The couch was old and threadbare on the arms, but the material was intact and without holes. The big arm chair sitting opposite didn't actually match the couch but it looked to be in much better condition and newer with a soft plush like fabric. The coffee table was basic dark wood that looked to be in reasonably good condition. The desk in the office nook on the other hand looked wholly out of place when compared to the living room furniture. It was a beautiful antique Amish roll top desk. The wood was honey colored and the craftsmanship was exquisite. Beyond the living room was the kitchen separated by a long counter with tall stools pulled up along it's length. As he made his way through the living room and kitchen he moved cautiously through the hallway adjoining the bedroom and bath seeing the the set up to this apartment was very similar to his own. The thought that he should investigate the rents here crossed his mind briefly but he stowed that away for later consideration as he checked the bedroom.

Nothing looked terribly out of place so he wasn't sure that the place had actually been burglarized. There were clothes on the couch and dishes in the sink, but nothing looked as though the place had been searched or disturbed in any way so he moved to the front door and beckoned Charlie inside.

"Charlie you mentioned that Amita has been more and more distant the closer it came to having her parents come to town. Is it possible that she didn't close and lock her door this morning as she left for school?"

Charlie thought about that and shook his head wearily. "I suppose anything is possible, but I highly doubt it, Don. I take it everything seems perfectly normal?"

Don holstered his weapon and shrugged. "Honestly yeah, nothing is tossed as though a search has been conducted; the drawers are all closed, the cupboards too. Nothing seems to be missing and there is forty dollars sitting out on her dresser, so I cannot believe that the place was burglarized."

Charlie nodded but he felt a little creepy like something was still out of place about the whole thing. He knew Amita, and he was having trouble believing that she had left her place open and unlocked. He wanted to get her things and get back so he decided not to debate the point and immediately moved off into the bedroom to get a small suitcase from the closet and start filling it with clothes and other items that she had asked him to get for her. Don also still had an uneasy feeling about the unlocked door and encouraged Charlie to hurry up unnecessarily.

"I'm almost done, Don. Hey, there is a date planner on her desk with a spiral steno pad tucked into the side flap. She said that her parents' flight and accommodation information is on the top page. Could you grab that for me while I get some things from the bathroom?"

Don moved out into the living room and walked over to the desk. The day planner was out and on the desk just as Charlie had described. Don stopped short. The steno pad was there, tucked in the flap of the planner, but the page on top with the information was gone. It had clearly been torn from the steno pad. The frayed edges of paper still stuck in the spiral bind. The tingling sensation that he had felt from the moment he walked into the apartment increased and out of sheer force of habit he pulled a glove from his pocket and used that to flip the first couple of pages in the planner, looking for the top page of the pad that had been removed, but didn't find it. He glanced around at some of the other items and folders on the desk, not seeing anything and then he looked to the top shelf and saw a picture frame lying face down over the lip of the shelf. Again using the glove, he lifted the photo frame and saw a picture of Charlie sitting at his desk at CalSci. He had a Rubik's cube in his hands and a huge smile on his face. The glass over the picture was broken as though the frame had been slapped down hard.

Don turned suddenly and once more scanned the corners of the room; then opened his phone and contacted both his team and Officer Clement. After speaking with Megan and David, Don called Clement to ask if Amita's keys had been entered into evidence desperately hoping that she would say that they had been. When she told him that no keys were recovered from the scene he moved to high alert.

"We may have a problem; I think that the perp might have been here in Amita's apartment."

As he spoke, Don moved toward the sounds of his brother rummaging through the bathroom still hyper-alert for any movement or anything that he missed during his sweep of the place earlier.

"If the door was unlocked and ajar I agree that this guy has her keys and could have been there. I'll get over there right away with a tech team to sweep the place for forensic evidence."

Don acknowledged her and hung up as Charlie emerged from the bathroom lugging a small but overstuffed and moderately heavy suitcase that Don took from him.

"Come on, Buddy, time to leave."

The seriousness of Don's tone was not lost on him and Charlie asked, "What is it?"

Don was continuing to scan the area for intruders as he led Charlie toward the living room. "Amita's keys were not recovered, and the page with her parents flight information has been torn out of the steno pad on the date planner. The door was unlocked a ajar so I think it's at least possible that her attacker was actually in here. If he really was here, we need to get out before we contaminate the scene any further."

Charlie stiffened at that revelation but said nothing, leaving the apartment behind Don. They moved off down the hallway to the elevator with Don still on high alert. As they emerged from the building both Don and Charlie were visually scanning the area. Charlie's eyes went to any white vehicle that they came across obviously looking for the van that he had seen at CalSci, while Don's more trained eye was looking for anything that might be out of place. Don moved them as quickly as Charlie's limp would allow over to his vehicle and after throwing the suitcase in back he instructed Charlie to get in and lock the door. They had to wait for Officer Clement and the forensics team to give a statement and he wanted Charlie out of harm's way, or at least with as much protection as the interior of his SUV offered.

"What are you going to do?"

Don once again withdrew his gun and looked at his brother and said, "My job. He may never have been here, and if he was I doubt that he is still in the vicinity, but I want to check the apartment again. Now you stay put in here, got it?"

Charlie nodded looking a little more scared than miffed at his brother's abrupt tone. Don slammed the door and Charlie did as he was told, locking it behind the agent. He then reclined the seat a little so that he was not quite as visible to someone passing by from outside the vehicle. Don kept his weapon low but moved with surprising speed and stealth over to the side of the building. He entered and instead of the elevator, he moved off to the stairwell that led up to the second floor and Amita's apartment. When he got to the top of the stairs he saw that the door leading to the second floor was cracked open slightly, just as the apartment door had been. He looked around the floor to see if there was any indication as to why the door should remain open when the heavy doors generally closed of their own accord, if for no other reason than weight. Looking through the crack he could clearly see the corridor of the long slender building and Amita's front door. The perpetrator may have stood there watching them, and Don couldn't help thinking,_ 'Doesn't this guy know how to close a door?'._ Don pulled his glove out again and slipped it onto his hand then pushed door and it did close with a rather loud click as the latching mechanism engaged. If he were standing there watching as the Eppes brothers approached it would explain why he didn't want to close the door. He probably slipped away after they had entered the apartment.

Don opened the door and moved purposefully forward once again checking the corners as he entered the apartment. He didn't really believe that the perpetrator was still there but he wasn't going to blithely ignore the fact that he could easily be hiding in a closet and waiting for everyone to leave. Don carefully moved around the apartment checking every nook and cranny that could potentially hold a person. He even opened and looked inside the cupboard under the kitchen sink only finding some cleaning supplies and a bucket. He checked her bedroom again very carefully, under the bed, in the closet and even out the back window and the three inch deep fake balcony. He also took that time to scan the parking area adjacent to Amita's building or as much of it as he could see from that angle as well as the rear of neighboring building. From this vantage point he could see the back of the next building clearly but didn't see any white or other colored vans for that matter parked there. With her apartment at the end of the long building she had the advantage of being able to see out in two different directions.

The bathroom was much larger than he had expected with a shower stall and a tub that featured a wide rim big enough for the four large round flat bottomed scented candles resting along the back wall of the tub. Don inhaled the gentle lavender of the candles, and shook his head. _'Gotta find out what the rent is around here,' _he thought to himself yet again. The perpetrator was obviously long gone so he moved back out to the living room and over to the desk again. He wanted to see if there were any other signs of disturbance other than the picture and the day planner but with papers and folders on the desk it was impossible for him to tell what had been moved and what hadn't. They would have to show Amita pictures of the desk taken by the crime scene techs to see what else may be missing or displaced.

There was no one here and nothing more he could do so he left the apartment closing the door and returned to the parking lot just as a PPD cruiser and a small black mini van pulling up next to his SUV. Officer Clement and unfortunately Officer Prig both stepped out of the cruiser and approached Don. Before Officer Clement could say anything, Prig stepped up slightly ahead of her and began speaking.

"For someone who has no intention of interfering in a case that is clearly out of his jurisdiction and against proper conflict-of-interest protocols, you certainly have an alarming tendency to be right in the middle of our investigation."

The steel in Don's eyes made Officer Clement cringe internally, but she spoke up before the two men could get into a cock fight in the middle of the parking lot.

"Martin, Special Agent Eppes contacted us because they found that the place had been broken into when they arrived on a perfectly legitimate errand." She turned at looked at him directly and spoke quietly so that Don couldn't easily over hear her. "Let's play nicely with our Federal friends. We may want to use that big database at some point." Then she said in a normal tone of voice, "You have more experience with the CSI techs than I do. Why don't you coordinate with them so that nothing gets missed. I can stay down here and get a statement from Agent Eppes."

Prig shot daggers at Don before he turned stiffly and walked away to work with the CSIs collecting evidence. As he walked away Clement called out to him. "Marty, we'd better see if we can get the building super down here too. If the stolen keys were used to open the door then there will hopefully be trace inside the lock. He will need to get a locksmith out here tonight to replace the lock we are gonna take if we don't want to be forced to put an officer on guard all night."

Prig nodded to her and walked toward the mini van without saying a word. Officer Clement looked back at Don with a slight smile on her face but refrained from shaking her head until Prig and the other officers moved inside the building.

"You handle him quite well."

That got Don a bigger smile and she looked up at him. "When I was first assigned as Martin's partner I nearly killed him in the first week. It took a little while but we managed to find a balance that works... sort of. At least he treats me with some respect now. He's actually not all that bad..." Once again she looked up and this time she did shake her head. "Who am I kidding? He is a right pain in the ass to deal with, but he is an extremely good police officer and he misses nothing. He is one of the most observant officers I have worked with and I am hoping that he makes detective soon. It will be good for the department."

Don's irritation at Prig was quickly wearing off. "Not to mention you."

As much as he appreciated Clement's wit and charm it was time to get back to business. He told her what he had found in the apartment and stairwell and that from the rear window he didn't see any sign of the van. They didn't have a license plate number to go by, only a description that would fit most utility vans in the LA area, but the fact that it also had no business names or markings of any kind he hoped would help to narrow down the search a little.

"What other keys were on the key ring that the attacker took?"

Don glanced back at the SUV and in a serious tone said, "Charlie said that Amita's office key was on that ring but we should ask him to verify that."

The fatigue of the long day, the tumultuous events of the evening and the emotional roller-coaster he had been riding finally caught up with Charlie. Before Don had made it all the way up to Amita's apartment he had slipped into a fitful doze. As Don walked over to the SUV he used his remote to unlock the door, which startled Charlie awake. He sat upright quickly looking around frantically for the source of the sound that had disturbed him. Don quickly opened the door saying, "Whoa there, Buddy, it's just me. You okay?"

Charlie turned in the seat so that his right leg hung out of the cab. He absently rubbed it as he stretched out the muscles. "Yeah, I'm okay. Did you see anything?"

He shook his head saying, "Nah, he's gone. Look, Charlie, if he came here then he will probably go to her office as well. You did say that her office key was on that key ring didn't you?"

Charlie nodded and Don looked to Officer Clement who was already speaking into her radio. She paused and looked at Charlie for a moment. "Where exactly is Professor Ramanujan's office?"

"Fourth floor of the Math and Sciences building, room 426."

Officer Clement nodded confirmation to Charlie and turned away to tell the dispatch where to send the unit. Meanwhile Don got on the phone with David and asked him and Colby to meet the Pasadena PD at CalSci to check out Amita's office. When he hung up with them he turned back to Charlie.

"What else was on that key ring? Did she have a key to the house on there?"

Charlie turned white at that question. He didn't understand why he hadn't thought of this already. "Oh, God! I'm sure that is where she had the key, where else would it be? Don, we have to call Dad!"

Don was just as upset by this as Charlie, but he remained calm. "Hey, don't worry, Charlie. Remember Megan is at the house, but yeah I'll call her now. You're gonna have to change the lock, Buddy."

"First thing tomorrow, I'll be on the phone." Charlie looked around nervously. "What about Amita's parents? If this guy took that sheet of information about when they are due to arrive and where they're staying..."

Don placed a calming hand on Charlie's shoulder. His brother was starting to get a little wound up. The exhaustion was becoming evident on his face and it looked like his leg was cramping up the way he kept rubbing it.

"Relax, Charlie, they don't arrive for a couple days. We'll make sure that they arrive safely and they can always change their reservations." He turned to Officer Clement just as she was finishing up with dispatch and asked, "If we're done here I think I should get Charlie back home. I sent two of my agents to meet your guys at CalSci - just as back up." He hastened to add in clarification.

"Thanks, that would be appreciated. We are starting to run a little thin with the shift change. You two should head back home. I have your cell number and here's mine," she said as she handed him a card. "I'll let you know if we find any trace on Professor Ramanujan's lock and I'm sure your agents will let you know if we find anything at her office."

She turned to Charlie and she really felt for the young man. His face looked like it hurt from the black eye and his leg obviously had more than enough for one day. "Professor Eppes, I'll make sure you get your cane back as soon as possible. You should go home and take it easy."

Charlie tried to smile at her and almost succeeded. "Thanks, I'd appreciate that. I have an old one from the hospital but I'd rather have mine back if it's all the same. Thank you for all of your help. Amita told me that you were very understanding when you spoke to her."

She patted him lightly on the forearm. "Just doing my job."

That earned her a genuine smile. "Now you sound like my brother."

Charlie eased himself back into the seat and didn't notice the look that passed between Officer Clement and Don.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N -** Well the next new episode of Numb3rs airs tonight. I'm sure that this story will at that time more than likely become AU. I honestly believe that they will cover the meeting of the parents in this episode because will fit with the time line as expressed by comments in previous episodes.  
So even though this story is now no longer following canon, I hope you continue to enjoy it. The meeting of Amita's parents in this story has already been conceptualized so any similarities that we may or may not see with the show are purely coincidental.  
Enjoy,  
Alice I

****

Chapter Ten

Jitendra pulled into the lot at CalSci near the Business building. He knew that he would have to walk to the Math and Sciences building, but with the campus all-but-deserted due to the rock concert in town and the lateness of the hour he was counting on not running into anyone as he made his way across campus. As he approached the far end of the parking lot next to the Math and Sciences building he could see that there was still a fair amount of activity near the woman's car. A campus security vehicle was parked nearby and the area had been cordoned off with crime scene tape. There were at least a dozen students clustered around talking to the security officer who kept them back. A large black forensics van was also parked in the lot near the site with forensics personnel packing away equipment.

With so many people in front of him, Jitendra couldn't approach the building from this side, and that meant backtracking and crossing the west quad so that he could try to gain entry from the other side of the building, but he was determined to get into that woman's office tonight. He was still seething that his mission had been thwarted. He should be on his way to the airport right now but that was not possible because of the kike boyfriend. He wanted to know where the man lived and he was sure he could find what he was looking for in her office as long as he could get in there before anyone else arrived.

The man who came to her apartment with the boyfriend was obviously some kind of law enforcement and would have told the rest of the police that he had been there so Jitendra knew that he was running out of time. They would have known that he had the woman's keys and that included her office key. It was only a matter of time before more police showed up at the campus to inspect her office. He planned to be gone by that time. With these thoughts running through his mind, Jitendra picked up his pace and pulled the baseball cap further down over his face trying to conceal the bandage under his left cheek.

As he had hoped, all of the activity was focused on the far side of the building next to the parking lot and he was able to slip into the front entrance unnoticed by anyone. He made his way quickly to the fourth floor and using his pen light in the darkened hallways he began to search for her name on the office doors. As he moved down the corridor, he saw a placard entitled Doctor Charles E. Eppes, Professor of Applied Mathematics.

_'The Jew boyfriend,'_ he thought bitterly.

The sound of a door being closed from the floor below spurred him forward. He found what he was looking for at the end of the hallway and around the corner. Amita Ramanujan's office was the last one on the short wing off the main corridor to the left. Jitendra stopped for a moment and looked at the set of keys in his hand. There were several keys on the key ring. The car key was obvious as was her apartment key. He saw what looked like a house key based on the style and there were four keys that looked different from any of the others. The emblem on the end of the keys was gilded and the keys were longer and more slender than the house or apartment keys. He assumed they were the keys that must open the doors of the college offices, classrooms and staff lounge. The first two keys he tried fit the lock but didn't work within it. He was successful on the third try.

Opening the door silently, he slipped inside and shone his pen light around. The office was quite small; only big enough for a desk, some file cabinets and a small seating area in front of the desk for student consultations. She didn't even have room for a small sofa as many of the professor's offices had. The same sort of disarray that was evident in this woman's home was also present in her office. The desk held three groups of papers that sat in relatively disheveled piles. A half filled coffee cup sat on the corner of the desk near a phone. One of the file drawers was partially opened with two files sticking out at an angle. There was a blackboard mounted on the wall behind the desk with equations scribbled across it. The only window in the office was next to the desk and looked out over the crime scene as evidenced by the flashing lights that helped to illuminate the interior of the office with a red strobe effect. Knowing that he didn't have much time Jitendra moved over to the window and as quietly as he could, he slid it open so that he could hear any new activity outside, such as the arrival of more police cars.

Then he turned to face the desk and quickly started going through the piles of papers on the desk not caring about where they landed. He assumed that the police knew he had her keys and he didn't have to keep his activity in her office secret, as long as he kept his gloves on and left no fingerprints. There was nothing on the desk except student work so he turned to the drawers. Two of the drawers opened easily and he tossed their contents out onto the floor as he quickly went through them. A third drawer was locked and he pulled out the key ring to see if there was an obvious choice to gain access. Indeed, there was a small key nestled among its larger counterparts and he quickly fit it into the lock on the drawer. Once opened, what he found only added fuel to his anger. He slammed his hand down on the desk as he looked through the contents. The drawer held letters - love letters, cards and other notes to her from the Jew.

On her desk, there was another picture of the two of them together. He picked up the picture and held it tightly, tempted to throw it against the wall. His need to stay silent and not draw attention to his presence outweighed his impulse and instead he slipped the small photo, frame and all, into his jacket pocket. This man had obviously pursued her and tried to woo her into his bed. Because these items were locked up Jitendra came to the conclusion that this woman must realize that her liaison with him was wrong and she was trying to hide the evidence of it, yet she paraded around with this man openly on campus. She was obviously confused by the manipulations of this man, which only intensified his desire to teach him what his rightful place was in the scheme of things.

The sound of two vehicles approaching the parking area outside the window drew his attention. A police cruiser and a large dark colored suburban had both pulled up and the occupants got out. They began talking to the campus security guard and pointing at the building. His time was up; they were here and he needed to get out of the office immediately. His heart was racing when he darted out of the office. He came around the corner and rushed down the hallway. As he drew closer to the stairs he could hear the voices of several people on the stairwell below him. He was trapped. He looked around quickly for a place to hide but the sparse corridor offered no avenues of retreat. Then he remembered the Jew's office. He was sure that one of the keys would fit that lock so he turned away from the staircase and darted back down the first section of the corridor, hauling the keys out of his pocket as he went.

The voices were softer but the sound of footfalls on the stairs was getting closer as he fitted the first key into the lock and turned. That failed and he quickly moved to the next key trying to move as quickly as he could without allowing the rest of the keys to rattle on the chain giving away his presence. When the second key failed to open the door panic began to set in. There was nowhere for him to go except back to the office that the police were headed for. He fitted the third key into the lock and it turned just as the first officer got to the top of the staircase. He silently opened the door and slid inside, closing the door behind him just as they stepped away from the foyer and began down the corridor toward him.

Jitendra listened closely as the officers passed just outside the door he was hiding behind. His heart was pounding so fiercely that he almost missed the whispered comment that the office was down at the end and to the left. As the adrenalin surge began to taper slightly the thrill of the moment struck him. He had almost been caught, but he had outsmarted them again. He listened intently at the door waiting for the sounds of their passage to fade and then he locked it.

Taking a deep breath and turned around so that his back was resting against the heavy wood and found himself facing a dark office that was much larger than what the Ramanujan woman had. Pulling out his pen light he glanced around with mounting disgust.

If he had felt that Amita Ramanujan's office was in disarray then this office was nothing short of a disaster. Every surface within the rather large space was covered with books, papers, files, and objects of every kind. On one corner of the man's desk sat a large glass bowl of brightly colored marbles. The floor was littered with what appeared to be toys, more stacks of papers and books, different pieces of what could have been video equipment. The office had two roll-out swivel blackboards as well as one mounted on the wall behind a desk that was so cluttered the surface was not readily visible.

Clearly, this man had a profoundly detrimental influence on someone who would probably otherwise be a respectable and upstanding woman. Jitendra was beginning to think that the real problem here was not the woman at all. She had no brothers to watch over her in this self-indulgent and corrupt society, her parents lived far away, and she was being sought after by an unscrupulous man of obvious ill intent.

He moved forward stepping around the clutter on the floor and over to the desk. He doubted that if he were to toss this office the way he had the other one that anyone would notice, but he was careful not to disturb anything. He did not want anyone to realize that he had been in here so he carefully looked through the papers, files and envelopes sitting on the top of the desk. He was delighted when he found an envelope addressed to Charles Eppes from the water company. This had the Jew's home address printed right on the front. Jitendra pulled out the sheet he had taken from the woman's apartment and flipped it over. There was a glass jug with pens and pencils in it sitting on the desk and he grabbed one to write down the address from the water bill on the back of the page.

Smiling to himself at his own cleverness, Jitendra folded the page and slipped it back in his pocket. A sound from the door sent an icy chill down his spine as someone outside the room tried to open the door by turning the knob. He heard a deep voice call out, "Do you have a key for this door?"

Looking around in a panic Jitendra desperately sought a place to hide. There was an S-shaped ergonomic chair that was wide enough to conceal him in the corner of the room. He made sure to shine the penlight on the floor so that he didn't trip over anything as he moved quickly over to the chair. Someone was turning a key in the lock and the door opened just as he squatted down behind the chair.

Jitendra held his breath as the door swung open and a large black man entered with his gun drawn. He was followed by another large man with light colored hair. The light was switched on by the latter and Jitendra was able to see two uniformed officers come in behind the two men in suits. One of the uniformed officers said, "It looks like your perp hit this office as well."

The large black man turned and said, "Nah, it always looks like this." He winked at the one with lighter hair and half-chuckled. "Trust me."

Jitendra now decided that these suited men must be federal officers of some kind because they did not dress or act like the uniformed officers and the men in uniform seemed to take their cues from the men in the suits. The light-haired federal holstered his gun and said, "I don't think he's been here. Amita's office was unlocked and trashed and Charlie's office was locked and looks the same as it did when I was out here yesterday."

The two federal men looked around but luckily they didn't inspect every corner of the room or he was sure he would have been discovered. After they turned out the light then closed and locked the door, Jitendra allowed his breath to nearly explode from his body. That was far too close and he sat crouched down behind that chair shaking for a long time after all sounds of movement in the hallway had faded away.

As he sat there trying to calm the adrenalin rush, he thought about how this had become so complicated. When he came to America, it was to send a clear message to the woman who would break with tradition by defying the agreement set forth by her father. She must be taught that the honor of her family must be held in higher regard. He had not anticipated that he would find her in a temerarious relationship with this Jew, a man who seemed to have connections and affiliations with a corrupt government. He was beginning to feel a new hatred blossoming inside of him and surprisingly he found that his anger toward the woman was dwarfed in comparison.

_'How could a young woman raised in this self-indulgent imperialist society remain true to her faith, her heritage, and her family when targeted and pursued by one such as this man?'_

The real problem was this boyfriend. He was the one who was corrupting the woman's honor, her morals, and her fealty to her family. He is the one who must pay the price for his bastardization of her.

The federal men said that they had been out to this office before, the day before in fact. This posed a complication. If the Jew was connected to the government in some way, it could make it more difficult to get to him.

After nearly fifteen minutes had passed Jitendra came out from behind the chair and made his way back over to Charlie's desk. He needed more information about this Jew before he could move forward. He carefully looked around the top of the desk for any indication of who this man was that he had government visitors regularly, but he did not find anything to explain the men who came to the Jew's office only yesterday.

After spending nearly fifteen more minutes searching the desk and files scattered around he had given up on finding anything useful in this disgrace of an office when a magazine set carefully in the center of a glassed back shelving unit caught his eye. The Jew's picture was on the front of the magazine. He drew closer and saw that the magazine featured an article on Charles Eppes because of a book he wrote called _'The Attraction Equation'_. He was about to pick up the magazine when loud voices in the hallway made him freeze. Noting the name and date of the publication, Jitendra backed away from the display shelf and approached the door, listening carefully. It was time to get out before he was discovered.

The voices faded as they moved off down the hall. He waited yet another moment before slowly opening the door a crack. Seeing that the hallway was clear Jitendra slipped out of the office and and was sure to lock it before he moved swiftly to the staircase. As he made his way down the stairs he found that he had to stop and get off at the second floor as more voices wafted up from the bottom of the stairs. Now that his presence had been discovered he wasn't going to be able to simply walk out the front door. He paced back and forth along the second floor corridor thinking frantically. He needed to get out, but the only exit was effectively blocked he thought as his eyes fell on a window at the far end of the hallway.

_'Perhaps not all exits are being watched.'_

Jitendra walked past the stairwell and to the opposite end of the hallway. He looked out the window and didn't see anyone. Every student or law enforcement officer gathered near either the entrance to the building around the corner or at the site of the attack on the other side of the building. Smiling to himself he tried the window and found that it opened easily. The drop to the ground was long, but he felt confident that he would be fine. He slipped out the window and hung from his finger tips for a moment.

"And whosoever fears Allaah and keeps his duty to Him, He will make a way for him to get out." he intoned as he let go.

TBC 


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N -** Sorry for the delay. R/L 'nuff said? :-)

****

Chapter Eleven

Charlie and Don decided that Amita didn't need to know what was found at her apartment until they had more solid information. Don reasoned that there was still the possibility that she had actually removed the page from the steno pad herself and simply not remembered doing so. The young woman needed to get a good night's sleep, if that were possible after such a brutal attack, and then she could go through her belongings that were recovered from the crime scene, which Officer Clement said she would bring to Charlie's house in the morning along with his cane. Perhaps the note from the steno pad was among them. Don glanced at his brother who looked almost as whipped as Amita and felt that Charlie could do with some uninterrupted sleep as well.

Amita had dozed off on the sofa and Charlie was reluctant to disturb her when they arrived home, but he knew that if he left her there her stiff neck would be even more sore the next morning. She needed the benefit of a decent night's sleep in a proper bed so he sat down on the edge of the sofa and gently stroked the side of her face until she opened her eyes.

"You should come upstairs and get some sleep. I'll stay on the couch for tonight."

This earned him a frown from Amita. "Why would you sleep on the couch?" she said in a broken voice. Her eyes traveled past his shoulder and caught sight of Alan sitting in the recliner doing a crossword puzzle and her cheeks reddened.

"I didn't want to crowd you, I know that you're sore and..."

Amita didn't care what Alan might have been thinking. It was obvious that even though his face was behind the folded newspaper, that he was listening to their quiet conversation. She raised her fingers to Charlie's mouth to stop him from speaking as she cleared her throat so that she could speak in a stronger voice than the horse whisper she had just managed.

"I don't care about being sore, you make me feel safe. Charlie, I need you to stay close to me tonight."

That was all Charlie needed to hear. He wanted to be close to her as well, but was unsure how she would react if he had just assumed. Alan stood silently and took the small suitcase up to Charlie's room as his son helped Amita to gain her feet. He escorted her up the stairs while Don and Megan moved off to the kitchen to discuss what had happened over at the apartment complex.

"It could still turn out that Amita simply flaked and left the door open, but I have a hinky feeling about all of this. Mariette will call as soon as the forensics on the lock is back."

Megan raised her eyebrows at the familiar way that Don referred to officer Clement but refrained from saying anything. She also agreed that saying anything to Amita until they had something a little more solid was not a good idea. That evidence arrived in the form of Don's cell phone chirping shrilly a few minutes later.

"Eppes."

Megan watched as Don's face grew more serious and a frown creased his brow.

"Okay, make sure the techs get pictures of the desk and the contents of the drawers. We will have to show them to Amita to see if anything is missing. Did you check Charlie's office? I'm guessing she had a key to his office as well."

Don's brow unfurled slightly and his features relaxed just a bit before he hung up the phone.

"I take it Amita's office was broken into?"

Don slipped the phone back into the holder on his belt and sat down at the table. "It wasn't like the apartment. The guy tossed the place. It was a mess. Papers and files were thrown all over the place."

"Charlie's office?"

Don sighed imperceptibly but Megan could see the relief in his eyes. "It looks like Amita really is the target here. I'm sure a key to Charlie's office was on that key ring, but they checked, and his office was untouched. Even so, I really want to have this place put under surveillance. Mariette will have a squad car patrol at regular intervals, but with this guy gunning for Amita; Charlie or even Dad could get caught in the crossfire. She needs proper protection and I intend to make sure she has it. Wright will be getting back to me by the morning, hopefully with the go ahead to assist the local department with the investigation."

Megan sat forward and made sure she had eye contact. "Until then we take turns watching the house tonight. You get some sleep, I have a feeling you're gonna need it, and since this is clearly about Amita and not Charlie, we can squeak by the conflict of interest issue."

"I need sleep about as much as the rest of you. We'll split this up into shifts. If you want to sack out in the spare bedroom I'll stay up down here until three then wake you and we can switch. I'm too keyed up to sleep right now anyway."

Megan agreed to this and Don took her upstairs and showed her into the spare bedroom making sure she had a fresh hand towel and wash cloth to use when he woke her for her watch sift. He checked on Charlie and Amita by peeking into the room before going back downstairs. He saw them both sleeping on their side with Charlie curled protectively around Amita. Don checked his weapon holstered at his side and turned to move back downstairs, not realizing that Alan had just stepped out of the bathroom and was watching him.

The older man didn't need to be a genius to see that something was wrong by the tense set of his eldest's shoulders and the fact that he was checking his weapon as though he was expecting to have to use it.

"I'll make a pot of coffee while you tell me why Megan is sleeping in your old bedroom and why you are preparing to sit watch half the night."

Don hadn't realized that his father had heard any of their conversation and Alan raised an eyebrow at him as they headed down the stairs. When they reached the bottom Alan spoke over his shoulder.

"I may be old but I'm not dumb or deaf. Even if I hadn't heard you talking with Megan about watch shifts I can plainly see that something else happened tonight. I have never seen you check your gun while inside this house. Is there something I should know about, Donnie?"

Alan walked into the kitchen with Don right behind him. He waited for an answer while he pulled the coffee down from the cupboard preparing to make a full pot.

"The man who attacked Amita, stole her keys. We think that he has been to her apartment and took a sheet off her notebook that had her parent's travel information. He definitely broke into her office and trashed it."

Alan put the coffee filters down and turned around looking genuinely alarmed by this. "Amita has keys to Charlie's office and this house! This guy could come here next! And judging by your behavior; you think that is at least a reasonable possibility as well!"

Alan's tone was becoming frantic which unnerved Don a little. His father had always been the rock of the family bringing calm reason to difficult situations.

"Dad, relax. Charlie's office was undisturbed; David and Colby checked that. It really does look like this guy is only interested in Amita. We have no idea if he even knows where Charlie lives nor do we have any reason to believe that he knows she is staying here."

Alan opened his mouth to object but Don cut him off with a raised hand.

"But - we aren't taking any chances. Megan and I are taking turns staying here at the house for tonight. Hopefully by tomorrow morning AD Wright will have spoken to Captain White at the Pasadena Police Department and we will have access to the case at least to provide protection for Amita, and by extension Charlie and you. Then I can get proper surveillance approved for the house."

Alan turned back to the counter to continue with the task of making the coffee but he couldn't help but stare out into the darkened back yard to see if anything was moving around in the shadows out there. The thought that someone capable of murder had keys to the house was not sitting well with him at all, and he doubted that he would get a wink of sleep all night.

"We will have to have the locks changed immediately."

"Charlie is gonna call a locksmith first thing tomorrow morning. Amita doesn't know about this yet, but she'll have to be told tomorrow. They are going to need her to look at pictures of her apartment and office to tell us if she thinks anything is missing. Her parents will be escorted from the airport when they land on Friday. We'll make sure that they are safe as well as Amita. Don't worry, Dad, we're gonna get this guy."

TBC

A/N - BTW we have a little more cannon on Amita's parents and I will fit that into my existing portrait of them.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

AD Wright had a long conversation with Captain White and between them they decided that because both Charlie and Amita were agency consultants, the Pasadena Police Department could use the assistance of the Bureau. Don was satisfied with the breakdown of the arrangement reached by the two agencies. Jurisdiction would remain local, but they would have access to the FBI's database. In return, the FBI, in the form of Don and his team, would get rapid notification of anything that PPD turned up. Don's team would work with the local patrols to secure protection for Amita and her family upon their arrival in LA. The local police department would use their own lab and evidence technicians to examine all the evidence in the case unless they requested access to the large federal databases, and any arrests would go under joint jurisdiction in order to ensure the maximum penalty.

Charlie was relieved to know that Don and the team would be handling Amita's security. It wasn't that he didn't trust the local police department; it was just that he didn't know them. Don's team members were friends and they all knew Amita and whether or not it was a supported theory he couldn't help feeling that this personal investment in keeping her safe would statistically improve their effectiveness. Charlie had contacted a locksmith and set up an appointment for noon and was just dialing the physical therapy office when Amita came down stairs.

"Hello, this is Charlie Eppes; I have a 9:30 appointment this morning that I need to cancel. I can still make my Wednesday appointment next week. No, I'll just do my exercises here at home, no need to try and fit an extra session in. Okay thank you, and I'll see you next week."

Charlie hung up the phone and turned to see Amita standing there staring at him with a frown on her face.

"Charlie, I'll be fine. You should go to your appointment. Someone will be here with me, I won't be alone."

Charlie knew that she might object to this but he also knew that she might change her mind when he told her about her keys and office. He leaned over and gave her a light kiss and guided her toward the couch.

"My PT appointment can wait; right now I need to talk to you about something."

As they sat down together on the couch Amita started to get an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach that was not related to the headache-induced nausea. This sensation only increased when Don and Megan joined them without saying anything.

"Your keys were not recovered from the scene. Don thinks that the man who attacked you may have taken them." Charlie said with a nod to the senior agent.

This set off panic in the young woman as her respiration rate increased. "Oh, God! Charlie, my apartment, my office... this house; they were all on that key ring!"

Amita instinctively looked toward the window and out to the street. Charlie had expected this kind of response and that is why he waited until she had a night's sleep under her belt before telling her. He took her chin gently in his hand and turned her face toward him.

"I have already called a locksmith who will be here by noon to change the locks on the house and garage. You'll be safe here, I promise you that."

Amita wasn't ready to relax just yet. "What about my apartment and my office?" Charlie hesitated a moment, which prompted Amita to become a little more agitated. "Charlie?"

"We had the super change your apartment lock last night, but, Amita," and Charlie's face looked even more grave, "when Don and I went there to get your things, the door was unlocked." He swallowed uncomfortably. "The door was open. Just a bit, but it was open."

"He was in my apartment?" Amita's voice was still very raw and hoarse but it took on a high pitch with that question.

"Actually we aren't sure. The place was pretty much undisturbed at least as far as we could tell. They took pictures of everything and will want to show them to you to see if anything looks like it's out of place." Charlie paused for a moment and looked into Amita's eyes. He saw fear reflected back at him and he hated what he was about to ask her. "You asked me to pick up your parent's flight information from the day planner on your desk. Are you sure that is where you left it?"

Amita's eyes grew wide at the implications of what he was asking. "Charlie, the flight info was written on a steno pad tucked into the right side flap of the planner. Please tell me that you found it." When he shook his head she became extremely upset. "It was there! Charlie It was there! My palm pilot needed to be recharged so I wrote it down when my mother called. I know it was there because I never moved it. He was in my apartment! He knows when my parents are coming and where they are staying!"

Don and Megan stepped forward and while Megan sat down next to Amita on the sofa Don sat on the coffee table facing her. She was completely surrounded at this point with Charlie on her other side. Don reached out and took her hands, "Amita, honey. We have the same information that he does. I spoke with Pasadena PD this morning and they took an impression from the pad. We will meet your parents at the airport and escort them to their hotel or here if you would like."

Alan stepped out into the living room as Amita's voice grew more panicked. He felt for her and was also mildly alarmed for her parents. Don had left that tidbit of information out when they talked the previous night. With the assurances that her parents would be safe and taken care of Amita did calm down. Alan went back into the kitchen and poured her a cup of chamomile tea and brought it out to her to help settle her jangled nerves.

Megan and Don backed off a little to give her some space and Charlie waited for a moment for her to set the tea cup down before he continued. Amita, this man did go to your office last night. The place was trashed."

Amita's curiosity overrode her anxiety for a moment as she frowned in confusion. "Why would he trash my office but leave my apartment undisturbed?"

Amita sat forward a little and looked at Charlie very seriously. "Your office key was also on that key ring, Charlie."

Rubbing her hand reassuringly he said, "David and Colby checked my office last night. They said that it was untouched and locked. Your door was wide open and the place was a mess. He must not know that you have a key to my office."

Amita sat back against the cushions and closed her eyes for a moment. She was very upset about having her home and office violated by this man, and she was extremely doubtful that this man didn't know that Charlie's office and house keys were on that ring. They had made no bones about their relationship at school and she knew that most people would assume that she had keys to Charlie's life and work. She was grateful that this man didn't seem to be interested in Charlie at all. Megan found it rather interesting that Amita seemed far less interested in her office being trashed by this man than whether or not Charlie's office had also been subject to the same treatment. After a moment Amita looked up at Charlie and marveled at the love she saw in those eyes.

"You should still go to your PT session this morning. I can take care of the locksmith if he comes before you get back." she said in an unconvincing tone.

"I have not missed any appointments and am doing very well with the PT. I'm more than capable of doing the exercises at home today. The only thing I'll miss is the ultrasonic massage but that is not really a big deal. Mario and I had talked about discontinuing them anyway. I'd rather stay here until I get my cane back anyway, so you just relax. Are you hungry at all? I could make some eggs and toast to go with that tea."

Amita thought about it for a moment. The headache remained and she was still feeling a bit queasy. "Maybe some toast but no eggs."

She gingerly raised her legs up on the sofa, aware that her muscles were far more sore today than they were last night. The bruise on her chest was painful and tender so she hadn't attempted to put a bra on that morning. Amita asked for the phone and tried both of the numbers for her parents again in an attempt to reach them. She wanted them to change their accommodations but she didn't want to upset them with this in a voice mail so she simply asked that they return her call as soon as possible. Charlie came back out with toast as she hung up and said that he thought they should stay at the house for the purposes of security.

Alan was quick to add that he had no problem with setting up the spare bedroom for her parents to stay in but she quickly refused.

"Thank you Alan, but that won't be necessary. I'm sure that they would appreciate the hospitality but they would probably be more comfortable in a hotel. My parents are very traditional and they would feel as though they were imposing even if you assure them that they aren't."

What Amita didn't want to say was that she didn't want her father, in particular, to see the sleeping arrangement between her and Charlie, but she also had no intention of sleeping alone for quite awhile either. Whether or not Alan picked up on the unspoken hesitation was impossible to tell, but he did drop the subject. Charlie continued to protest that they should stay at the house when Alan asked him to help him out in the kitchen.

Charlie was at a loss as to why his father suddenly needed so much help making more tea until the swinging door shut behind him. Alan sighed deeply, shaking his head slightly, and Charlie suddenly felt like he was twelve years old and had been caught doing something foolish.

"Charlie, do you remember telling me that you felt hurt by the fact that Amita's father may have difficulty with you not being Indian?"

Charlie could see that his father was trying to be patient with him, which perpetuated the feeling of being a pre-pubescent child about to be scolded, but it also fired a strong recalcitrant irritation over being called out by his father like some sort of errant child. "Um yeah, Dad I remember. And your point is?"

Alan took the time to pour a cup of coffee for both of them and then sat down at the kitchen table. He wanted to make sure that Charlie was going to listen without being stubborn, and stalling usually served to get his full attention.

"I got the distinct impression from Amita's comments last night that she feels better with you close by rather than sleeping on the couch. Given that, would you like to explain to her very traditional father why the two of you are sharing a room across the hall from the room you would have them sleeping in?"

Charlie's face actually grew bright red as the implications hit home. His entire demeanor changed and he sat down as well, speaking in a rather contrite tone of voice. "Yeah, I guess that would be a conversation I would prefer to avoid."

"Take it from this old man; allow Amita to take the lead in what she wants to tell her parents. She understands them and knows what they will accept. I have no doubts that they will be very grateful that you were there to save her from a horrible fate last night, but even that would not necessarily make it okay in their eyes that you and Amita have... gotten so close. I know that you remember me asking you if you were getting married when you wanted to know how I would feel about her moving in. I said it in a joking manner, but you have to understand, Charlie, that Amita's parents and I come from a different generation. What is easy for you to accept at your age is not so easy for us. We grew up with different ideas of how things should be done."

"This isn't how I wanted to meet her parents."

Charlie sounded dejected but Alan knew that he understood and even agreed with what he had said. He reached out and touched his hand. "I know that, Charlie, but life rarely happens the way we plan. Just give her and them time, and you will find that life usually still manages to find a way to work out right."

Half an hour after Charlie made his case for skipping out on his PT session, Officer Clement stopped by the house to speak to Don and return Charlie's cane. Colby arrived shortly after her, and Amita tried to re-open the argument with Charlie about his session.

"Now that you have your cane back, don't you think you should go to your PT appointment, Charlie? I mean look at the people here. Don, Megan, Colby, and a local police officer are all standing in the dining room. I think I am better guarded than the gold in Fort Knox!"

Charlie leaned over and kissed her tenderly. "And well you should be. It's far too late to go and I already canceled. They have most likely put someone else in my slot."

Amita was still blushing from Charlie's comment and dropped the argument. "Well, who am I to argue with a man who wants to stay by my side and cater to my every wish?"

That teasing comment earned her a deep bow with a flourish. Then Charlie proceeded to take her cup and plate back out to the kitchen past the agents gathered; talking to Officer Clement.

"Wright got approval for us to provide protection with the PPD doing regular patrol drive bys. In the meantime what did your techs find, Mariette?" Don asked.

She looked around a little and suggested, "Let's move this outside if you don't mind."

With a significant look toward the sofa where Amita had laid her head back and closed her eyes, Don simply led the way out through the kitchen past Charlie and out onto the back deck. Once they were outside away from both Charlie and Amita, Mariette continued to speak.

"There was trace in the lock mechanism at Miss Ramanujan's apartment. This confirms that the perpetrator was there, but I'd like to run it through the FBI database even though I don't think that we will find a match."

This earned her some curious looks as she pulled out a couple of printed sheets of paper from her shirt pocket. "I did some reading last night and this looks like it could be a family thing. I found a National Geographic article written in 2002 for the NG News and another article written by a Dr.Bhaskar Dasgupta for the Hindustan Times in February of 2004. According to the United Nations Commission on Human Rights honor killings have occurred in places like Bangladesh, Great Britain, Brazil, and Turkey as well as India.

Raised eyebrows all around accompanied this, but Colby spoke up first. "If this is happening all over the world then why hasn't something been done to stop it?"

"According to the article for National Geographic news, in these countries where Islam is practiced heavily these killings are called 'honor killings'. Dr. Dasgupta says that these killings are usually perpetrated by a male family member, but other women in the family often support these attacks. What is worse is the fact that in some countries these crimes are perceived as excusable or understandable. It is even perfectly legal in some countries to kill a woman because of infidelity or even perceived infidelity. Some of the reasons for these murders can be the refusal of a prearranged marriage, trying to get a divorce from an abusive husband or just talking innocently to a man other than a husband or brother. There was a case where a woman in India went to a law office to file for divorce and she was murdered right there in the office and the legal system also wanted to go after the lawyer for seeing her as a client! In some of these cases these women were victims of honor killings because they were accused of having sex with someone other than who they were betrothed to yet were found to be virgins when they were autopsied.

"My point is that because the man who attacked Amita told her that she had dishonored her family and referred to her relationship with your brother as evidence of that suggests that this could have been an attempted honor killing. Amita had a marriage arranged for her by her family that she refused. She is dating an American and doing so openly. This would explain what was said to her by the perpetrator."

As they listened to Mariette, none of the agents heard Charlie slip out the back door to join them.

"You think Amita's family did this? That's ridiculous. Now I see why you came out here. You wouldn't want Amita to hear you accusing her father of trying to kill her to protect his family honor!"

Don turned quickly as did the others but luckily he was closest. He placed a calming hand on Charlie's shoulder and felt the tension there. Before he could say anything Officer Clement stepped forward to face him directly.

"Professor Eppes... Charlie, I am not accusing anyone of anything. I am simply conducting an investigation. The man who attacked Amita last night said some pretty specific things and I'm just following up on those clues. I have to look at all the possibilities; to follow where the stream of evidence leads me so to speak. I am not saying that I have any hard evidence against anyone, I simply did some research based on her attacker's comments and this is what I found."

"Why wouldn't you share this with me? I have a right to know what's going on!"

Officer Clement kept her voice calm and soothing but she didn't flinch at Charlie's shouts or back away in any respect. "We came out here so that I could fill the team in on this information without upsetting Amita or you for that matter. We still consider that Amita's family had nothing to do with this as evidenced by the suspect taking the sheet with their flight information. If her parents had arranged this attack then I would assume that the suspect would know when they would be arriving and where they would be staying. I know that you consult for the FBI, but you really are too close to this situation to get directly involved. You can understand that, can't you?"

Charlie visibly calmed down and Don felt the tension in the muscles under his hand relax as Mariette spoke. She had appealed to Charlie's sense of logic and while she used the term 'evidence', she equated it to following the data. This was a concept that Charlie could clearly grasp. She also capitulated that Amita's parents were not under suspicion which helped to further ease his agitation. Don marveled at how well this woman worked with different personalities and thought that she would make an excellent agent.

"May I see those articles that you printed out?"

Knowing that he could just as easily look up this information for himself, officer Clement didn't see any reason not to give him the articles to read. She handed them over and was about to say something else but he would not have heard her in any case. He began reading the pages as his eyes took on that far away look they always got when he was puzzling over an intricate algorithm as he turned and walked back into the house.

Don assigned Colby to the day shift at the house with Amita and Charlie, making sure that the younger agent called him if Charlie planned to leave the house at all. Don was still not comfortable with the assumption that Charlie was safe from this man even though everything pointed to Amita and possibly her parents as the only targets. He just couldn't shake the feeling that Charlie was in just as much jeopardy as Amita. He told Colby that he planned to be back no later than six that evening to cover the night shift.

Officer Clement told Don that she would send one of her lab techs over to the federal building with the evidence she wanted run through the FBI's CODIS database before she moved out to the living room to talk to Amita and show her photos of both her apartment and her office. Colby poured himself a cup of coffee and took a seat in the dining room between the two entrances into the house. Don and Megan decided to ride in together, and once they got into Megan's vehicle she turned to Don with a crooked smile on her face.

"So when did Officer Clement become Mariette?"

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N -** Warning this chapter contains a particularly nasty racial slur. Jitendra is an equal opportunity bigot and he pretty much hates anyone who doesn't fit in his narrow mindset. No offense is intended. The object of this story is to illustrate different methods of intolerance.

For an update on this story and future projects please visit my profile page.

**Chapter Thirteen**

The drop from the second floor window of the Math and Sciences building didn't do much for Jitendra's ankle. He twisted it painfully when he landed and rolled out from the brush growing up against the building. Knowing that he was in a bad position he got up and immediately began walking in a straight line away from the building. This took him diagonally across the quad and toward the library. He was not parked there but he would make his way around the outer rim of the campus to his van to avoid detection. He kept muttering, "He will make a way for him to get out," under his breath as he walked across the open grassy quad. He was fully exposed to anyone who happened to look in his direction and through sheer force of will, he kept his gate steady and even hid the desire to favor his twisted ankle.

Once he was out of sight of the building, he found a bench and sat down rubbing his swollen appendage and considered his next move. It had gotten late and he wasn't sure where to purchase a monthly magazine that was published four months ago. After some thought on the matter he headed to his van, now limping somewhat. The lobby in the hotel he had taken up residence in had free wireless access to the Internet. He would try to find the magazine on line.

It took almost a half an hour to make his way back to his vehicle and by then his ankle was not as sore. It had swollen enough inside of his shoe that the high-top sneaker was acting like a brace for the injured member. Once he arrived at the hotel, he silently made his way to the corner of the small lobby that held a cramped desk with a computer bolted to it. Finding the magazine wasn't difficult at all. He simply typed in Vanity Fair in the search engine and the first link went directly to the website. He searched through and couldn't find old issues on the site but when he tried the link leading to on-line items he found the article he was looking for under the heading New and Recent and a sub heading of Books. The article was long so he sat back in the hard chair to read while propping his now throbbing ankle up on the corner of the desk.

The Jew had a brother who was an FBI agent. Someone who was called an SAC or Special Agent in Charge. That must have been who was with him when he came to the woman's apartment. That would also explain why federal agents were accustomed to stopping by his office on campus. He found it interesting that this man also consulted for the FBI, but not nearly as much as the fact that Amita Ramanujan was listed as an FBI consultant as well as Charles Eppes' girlfriend. Having a brother who was a federal agent posed a problem for him. If they knew that he was now targeting Charles Eppes his ability to access this man would be limited, and he was very glad that he had hidden his foray into the man's office. He had taken the sheet with the flight information on it almost as a whim, not really knowing why he had done it. Now that his visit to her apartment and office was known, along with the missing flight information, the focus of the federals would probably stay on the woman rather than the Jew. This could still work as long as he could find a way to monitor the man's whereabouts.

The cosmologist was his friend and the magazine article identified him as Professor Lawrence Fleinhardt. He could perhaps get some information about what was happening through this man. With his ankle burning and throbbing, he cleared the history of his search in the computer and went up to his room. He would need to take some pain medication and get plenty of ice for his ankle from the machine down the hall from his room. He would go back to the college the next day and trust in Allaah to provide the answers for him.

Jitendra was up by six the next morning. His ankle had responded to the ice and ibuprofen but it was still very sore. He got up, dressed, and decided it was time for a run to the pharmacy. He purchased a stiff ankle brace and an ace bandage, not knowing which would work better for him. He also purchased some liquid skin and pancake makeup that was the same shade as his skin. With his purchases in hand he went back to his room to get to work. It turned out that the ankle brace worked far better than the ace bandage so he used that and made sure to pull his pant leg down to hide the first aide device. Then he turned his attention to the cut on his face.

He had replaced the large bandage with butterfly strips before going to bed the previous evening. He carefully removed those now and coated the entire cut with the liquid skin. The sting was intense but it only lasted for a moment. Once the application was dry, he applied a second coat. He didn't want the liquid bandage to come off after he applied the make up. Once he had finished, it was hard to see the cut although if someone were looking they would be able to tell that something was there. His nose was still somewhat swollen from being hit with the cane but luckily it had not been broken and he managed to avoid getting the typical black eyes that often accompanied nasal injuries. He put a baseball cap on and pulled the bill down low over his eyes and stood back to inspect his handiwork. Unless he was under bright lights he didn't think that the cut on his face would show at all, and he smiled at his reflection.

He needed to stop at an electronics store and pick up some equipment, then stop at a florist before going back to CalSci. He decided to thoroughly clean and return the white van he had rented and to go to another rental agency to get a different vehicle. He was not comfortable with driving the van back to the campus and running the risk of someone recognizing it. He knew that the police were focusing their search on a white utility van and he wanted to become as invisible to them as possible.

It took him nearly two hours to purchase what he needed before his next stop at a self-run car wash with vacuums and cleaning cloths for the interior. He put his gloves on and cleaned the entire vehicle then got in and took it back to the rental place for commercial equipment near the airport. His next rental was a dark blue minivan with stow-n-go seating and dual sliding doors. Once he had paid for the rental, he put a large ornamental vase with a deep overhanging lip of fragrant flowers in the back, along with his purchase from the electronics store and headed to CalSci.

The freshman combinatorics class was not for another two hours, which gave Jitendra plenty of time to assemble and test the tiny microphone he had purchased. He used invisible tape to affix the microphone to the underside of the lip on the vase. Once he was finished unless someone was specifically looking for the bug they wouldn't see it. He then drove over to the campus bookstore and purchased a 'Get Well' card for Professor Ramanujan before heading back to the math and sciences building. He arrived at the classroom twenty minutes before the class was scheduled to start and was delighted to find that it was going to be taught by Professor Lawrence Fleinhardt. He stepped into the classroom and put the vase down in the middle of the professor's desk. He opened the 'Get Well' card and wrote in block letters - 'Get well soon Professor Ramanujan. We miss you! Your Combinatorics 101 Class.' Then he left a note for Professor Fleinhardt on the blackboard asking that he deliver the flowers and card to Professor Ramanujan once everyone had a chance to sign the card.

As students began to filter in they saw the flowers up at the front of the room and one young woman wandered up to the desk and saw the card sitting there open with a pen next to it.

"Hey guys, look it's a get well card for Professor Ramanujan." she said over her shoulder, and picked up the pen and signed her name.

Her classmates all followed suit and by the time class was about to begin the entire card had been signed. Jitendra stayed off in the corner in the back of the classroom. He did not say anything when Professor Fleinhardt asked who had purchased the card and flowers so that he could contribute to the cost. The first girl who signed the card had not noticed Jitendra when she and two other classmates had walked in and she said that they were simply there on the desk when everyone arrived. Some members of the class intoned that they thought that he had gotten the flowers for her, not having noticed the note scrawled on the blackboard asking him to deliver them. Professor Fleinhardt scratched his head and frowned at the offering, then shrugged slightly.

"Well, they are quite lovely and I'm sure that Professor Ramanujan will be very pleased to get them. Now I would like to discuss Group Theory and Euler's formula."

The man turned to the blackboard and began to write out the formula. Jitendra didn't want to draw attention to himself by leaving during the lecture so he sat quietly in the back of the room. He paid marginal attention to the lecture in the event he was called on to answer a question, but the bulk of his attention was on what his next move was going to be. One of the things that he decided he would do was to drive through the neighborhood of the Jew's house. He wanted to know the lay of the land and find a good place to set up a surveillance spot. The microphone he had purchased had a receiver range of 300 yards and would pick up sound within 25 to 30 feet of the vase it was affixed to. That gave him some leeway to find a surveillance spot.

Jitendra had allowed his mind to wander as he thought about what he was going to do to the userper when Professor Fleinhardt asked if there were any questions about the assignment he had given drawing him back to his surroundings. As soon as the class was dismissed Jitendra slipped out the back before any of the other students had even collected their books and he moved down the hallway. He was able to hang around essentially unnoticed in the crowded corridor waiting for Professor Fleinhardt to emerge from the classroom. He did, carrying the large vase of flowers just as a loud and brassy woman approached.

"Larry, how lovely! Are those from a secret admirer?"

Professor Fleinhardt's face was clear to Jitendra but was hidden from the woman behind the large bouquet. He smiled slightly to himself as he watched the small man roll his eyes in frustration.

"No, Mildred, these are for Amita from her freshman combinatorics class. Now if you don't mind..."

The woman reached out with a firm grip and relieved him of the flowers, much to his surprise. Jitendra almost stepped forward to intervene but held off as the tall woman smelled the flowers and then moved them so that she could see Professor Fleinhardt's face.

"Millie, I was just going to take those to Charlie's house to give them to Amita since I don't have any more classes for the day."

Professor Fleinhardt spoke in a tone that was patient yet betrayed his frustration.

"I'll walk you to your car. How is she doing, by the way?"

The large woman turned and kept the vase firmly in her hand, holding it off to the side so that she could see Professor Fleinhardt. Her unending stream of loud dialogue about lecture schedules and upcoming university faculty events worked perfectly for Jitendra. Once he knew where the man was going, he wanted to follow the professor and was able to listen to her voice as a means of monitoring the pair's location after they exited the building while he moved off to the student end of the parking lot to retrieve his vehicle. The dimunitive professor was able to get away from the overbearing woman fairly quickly and Jitendra had no trouble keeping well back in following the old style car the physcisist drove since it was the only Ford Model A on the road.

Professor Fleinhardt drove directly to a residential neighborhood and pulled up the driveway of a large Craftsman house. As Jitendra drove past he clearly saw the professor pulling the vase out of the vehicle and turning to walk up to the house. Just as he turned right at the next corner, he caught sight of a police cruiser coming down the street toward his vehicle and he kept his face neutral, looking straight ahead as the vehicle passed him. He did note that the officer driving looked in his direction, which got his heart pounding. He turned right again and pulled up and stopped the car. He could just see the roof of the large home past the view of the smaller home behind the Craftsman. He knew that he was within the range that he had to be to pick up a signal from the microphone so he pulled out the earpiece and listened intently.

_"How is she doing?"_

_"She's still tired and her head hurts. Her voice is getting stronger. She slept better than I thought she would last night. She only woke up three times and I was able to calm her fairly quickly."_

_"Has she had any luck getting in touch with her parents?"_

_"No, but that is not so surprising. They left Delhi for London to attend some kind of seminar or symposium. I know that when I do guest lectures at Cambridge cell phones are pretty strongly frownewd upon."_

_"Well at least they haven't contacted her to cancel their trip again."_

_"I know, and I hope they don't. She needs them right now more than ever. This has really rattled her, not that I blame her one bit, but she misses them a lot."_

_"I take it the get-together on Saturday has been canceled."_

_"No actually it hasn't. Amita really wants her parents to come and she wants to put this whole thing behind her. She was pretty upset when she looked at the photographs that Officer Clement brought by of her office and apartment, but she is refusing to change these plans. She argued that the barbecue on Saturday would be the safest place for everyone because the whole team would be here."_

_"That is a valid point. I can't imagine anyone wanting to take on four highly trained FBI agents."_

_"Not to mention at least one Pasadena police officer. I think Amita invited Officer Clement on Saturday as well, and if I'm not mistaken Don won't mind the addition."_

_"Hmmm. Well, I am supposed to be meeting Megan later so I need to get going. Give Amita my love when she wakes up."_

_"Thanks, Larry, for everything."_

_"It's certainly not the slightest problem, Charles."_

Jitendra sat back and listened for a few more minutes as the two men walked to the front door. He looked up into his rear view mirror and saw a police cruiser, possibly the same one as before, turn the corner and start down the street in his direction. He quickly ducked down and lay flat against the seat until the vehicle had past. Sitting in a car out on the street wasn't going to work with all of these regular patrols. He would need to find a house that he could use. That was going to pose a serious problem. Leaving the earpiece in, he started the car and slowly pulled out onto the road. He could still hear the two men talking but lost the signal as he neared the end of the street and turned right a third time. As he approached the street with the Craftsman he turned right, scanning every house that he passed. Once he was within five properties of the large home, the signal returned.

Every home was occupied. No for rent or for sale signs were to be seen and Jitendra was beginning to feel that his luck had run out when he saw an opportunity. An elderly black man stepped out of the front door of a small home, three properties past the Craftsman on the opposite side of the street, to pick up his mail. Jitendra pulled into the driveway of this house and parked his car. After a moment of consideration he got out and walked up to the door and rang the bell. It took the elderly man almost five minutes to answer the door, which boded well for Jitendra. When the front door finally cracked open, just enough for the elderly man to peer out, the smell of old urine that accompanied him made Jitendra wrinkle up his nose in distaste.

"Yes?"

"May I speak with your wife, sir?"

Creased owlish eyes stared back at him through Coke-bottle glasses. "Ain't got no wife. She died a few years back."

"Then perhaps I can speak to your children or housemate."

"No kids neither, and I live alone. Now git on out of here before I call the cops!"

Jitendra smiled to himself; this house would do nicely. With a powerful thrust he pushed open the door, knocking the old man to the floor. He yelped in pain as he landed hard on his backside and shouted as loud as he could as the strange man pushed his way into the front door quickly and closed it.

"Stop! Get outta here! Help! Help!"

Jitendra kicked the old man hard in the ribs. "Silence, Kaffir!" He reached down and grabbed the old man pulling him roughly to his feet. I need to use this house for a couple of days."

"Over my dead body!"

Jitendra shrugged his shoulders and said, "If you insist." He grabbed both sides of the old man's head and twisted it with a quick jerk, snapping the man's neck like a piece of dried kindling. The man dropped lifelessly to the floor and Jitendra picked him up and carried him into the living-room, tossing him unceremoniously on the couch. He looked around and found the keys to the house and a remote control for the garage door. He headed outside and opened the garage to discover that the old man didn't even own a car. He would have to keep his vehicle inside the garage so that this man's neighbors didn't get suspicious. Once he had locked up the house and closed the garage he decided it was time to pay his bill at the hotel, gather his belongings and get some much needed shopping done. With any luck, he would be able to book a flight back to India by the end of the weekend.

TBC


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N** - I apologize for the long wait for this chapter. Real life may have gotten in the way a little but honestly it had more to do with writer's block than anything else.  
A huge thanks to Serialgal who actually helped me to write this chapter. We banged out some dialogue together and I finally got un-stuck.  
I gave Amita's parents the names we heard this past week on the show but that is where the similarity ends. I personally was woefully disappointed with the way these people were portrayed. So from this point forward this story can be considered mildly AU and the characters Sanjay and Tapti Ramanujan are wonderfully OOC. Enjoy.  
Alice I

**Chapter Fourteen **

Thursday evening Amita finally got through to her parents who were waiting for their flight from Heathrow International to North America. She sat quietly on Charlie's bed taking advantage of the privacy. She traced her finger over the petals of a flower in the vase that he brought up and placed on the bedside table earlier in the day, as she waited for the call to connect. Every time she looked at the gorgeous display she marveled at how thoughtful it had been for her students to get them, bringing on a sudden, overwhelming rush of emotion. At her father's voice, she felt unexpected tears sting her eyes, and instinctively, she lapsed into the familiar Hindu derivative for 'father.' "Bapa?"

Sanjay Ramanujan could hear the quaver in his daughter's voice from across the world, and he frowned. "Your voice-mail sounded almost frantic, Amita. What is it that has happened that you couldn't wait to speak to us when we arrive tomorrow?"

Amita's father had detected the odd note in his daughter's messages as well as the tremor in her voice now, which was uncharacteristic for their normally independent and level-headed daughter.

"Amita, dear, I know that you have been trying to contact us. I am sorry, Bitiya, the Financial Directives Conference here in London has a 'no cell phone' policy, and by the time we got back to the hotel in the evenings coupled with the time difference, it has been difficult to return your calls. Is there a problem?"

"Dad, please don't get upset. I have something I need to tell you and I don't want to get into details about it over the phone." She paused for a moment to allow her father to respond but he waited for her to continue.

"I was attacked Tuesday evening outside of the Math and Sciences building at CalSci."

"Are you all right? What happened, who...? Were you badly hurt?"

At that Amita could hear her mother's voice in the background. "Was she hurt? Was there an accident, is she all right? Sanjay what…" Her mother's voice stopped abruptly and Amita could almost see her father raising a hand to quiet her so that he could hear.

"No, Dad, please, I'm okay, but the man who attacked me stole my keys and got into my apartment. He took your flight information. I don't know what he'll do. Dad, listen to me, two FBI agents will meet you and Mom at the airport and bring you to me. They have me under protection because this man also went to my office on campus and trashed it, but I'm okay. I'm staying with a colleague of mine."

"Do the police or the FBI have any leads? Are they close to catching this man?"

"I'm sure that they are doing everything in their power to arrest him. I just want to see you and Mom as soon as you get in. I'd much rather talk to you in person, and..."

"What is it, Bitiya?"

"It's just... I miss you."

Amita couldn't help the mixture of fear and despondency that crept into her voice, which set off alarm bells in Sanjay's mind, and he felt compelled to ask, "What did this man do to you, child?"

"Bapa, I really don't want to talk about this on the phone. Just come as soon as you can." She forced a light tone into her voice. "I'm afraid that we'll have to postpone our trip to Roscoe's for waffles for a day or two."

"Amita, my dearest; that is the least of my concern. We will be there as soon as we can." She could hear concern in her father's tone, but also anger directed at her attacker, and after he disconnected, she sat, with an odd mixture of relief and apprehension inside.

Amita's father let it go at her request, but she could tell that he was both worried for her and angered that someone had hurt her. Her sleep that night was disturbed again by dreams of a man clad in black with bright white teeth behind an evil sneer, but this time he was not attacking her, but her parents. Her father was a strong-willed man and in her dreams he had always been more powerful than any adversary. No matter what demons or monsters interrupted her slumber when she was a child; if her father was also in the dream he slew the dragon, or the troll and emerged victorious. Her father had always been her ultimate protector, but now he was the one being attacked, and the monster was darker and more evil than any from her childhood. This time, in her dream, her father fell under the onslaught of his attacker and she woke screaming.

* * *

Jitendra had made it back to the house undetected with his purchases and had stowed the rental van in the old keffer's garage. He had set up a device to record what was happening at the Craftsman while he was away and he immediately turned it on and listened to the recording, absorbing the one-sided end of the Ramanujan woman's phone call with her father. He wondered briefly if the house would be left unguarded while the FBI agents picked up the woman's parents from the airport but quickly dismissed that idea. It was unlikely that they would leave the dwelling with no protection, and his time would be better spent on other planning.

He reset his recording device, and stepped into the dining room, where he'd left his packages. He pulled out his first purchase. The heavy cast iron implement would hold heat well, he knew, and his eyes gleamed as he touched the end of it. The iron was a triangle and he knew that he would need to remove one side of that triangle to get the brand he desired; a 'V' shape. He knew the heavy metal would cut much more easily if he heated it thoroughly which prompted him to examine his next purchase, a blow torch. He lit it to make sure it worked, and then he applied it to the cast iron. It heated in seconds, and retained the heat for several minutes after. He set up a good work area on the table in the kitchen with metal snipers and a sheet metal. He looked through the cupboards and found a large heavy wooden cutting block that would work well for the heated iron and brought that out to the table as well.

He had everything laid out to begin his work but the stench coming from the next room kept distracting him. The body reeked with death and urine and it was stifling in the small house. Jitendra made his way to the basement and rummaged around until he found a large painting tarp to wrap the body in. It could be stored down in the cellar once wrapped up in the plastic cutting down on the foul odor. It took him only twenty minutes to wrap and stow the body during which time things across the street had become quiet.

When he was finished, he moved back out to the dining room. After heating the iron until it glowed red hot, he picked up the heavy metal snipers and began cutting off one side of the triangle. The cuts were rough and he used a metal file to smooth the cut edges so that they wouldn't get snagged on or tear the canvas bag that the iron was going to be stowed in. It took far longer than he had realized to smooth the sharp edges but he found the sound of the file to be relaxing in a monotonous way. Once he was finished he put the now V shaped branding iron into the canvas bag along with a switch blade and a hand held butane torch that he picked up at a kitchen supply store in the valley.

Finally feeling that he was prepared for his new mission he stowed his implaments in the van parked in the garage before making his way back to the living room to sleep in the recliner, deciding not to sully himself in the keffer's bed.

* * *

By the time morning dawned, Amita had finally fallen into a deep and dreamless sleep. Charlie was almost as exhausted as she was, but he silently slipped out of bed when he heard his brother walking around downstairs. Charlie wandered down to the kitchen and found Don sitting and talking quietly with David at the table while both drank cups of strong coffee. Don glanced up as he entered the room looking more disheveled than usual for the early morning.

"Rough night with Amita? I thought I heard her shout out at least once."

David had just lifted his cup of coffe to his mouth for a sip and nearly snorted the hot beverage up his nose at that question. Don looked over at him at first unaware of how his question had come across but realized it as soon as he saw David's face. He honestly wondered if the man was blushing, which made Don want to laugh. Charlie seemed oblivious to both the unintentional inuendo in the question and the junior agent's reaction to it. He sat down at the table and rubbed a hand over his face in a gesture of weariness.

"She had bad dreams, but you can't blame her. What time do her parents arrive and who is going to pick them up?"

"David and I will pick them up at the airport at 10 AM. You should stay here with her. Let her sleep as long as possible and by the looks of it you could use a few extra winks yourself."

Charlie smiled ruefully at his older brother as he scratched a three-day growth of stubble. "First impressions are gonna count here."

"Charlie, go back to bed, okay? I'll wake you up right before we leave to go get them. A couple more hours of sleep will do more for your first impression than anything else."

It didn't take a lot of convincing for Charlie to acquiesce. He was exhausted and really could use a little more sleep so after a few more minutes he quietly went back upstairs and slipped into bed, careful not to wake up Amita who instinctively snuggled up closer to him as he slid under the covers. Nearly four hours later when Don went up to the bedroom to wake Charlie and tell him that they were leaving, Amita shot up in bed as Don knocked on the door, and then called to Charlie quietly from the other side.

Her abrupt movement brought Charlie fully awake in a hurry, and he reached for her as she sat up looking around wildly with her heart pounding in her chest. She had the deep and absolute knowledge that she had overslept and missed some critically important meeting or event. For a moment, she couldn't tell what time of day it was, or even where she was. All she knew was that she was beyond late for whatever she had missed and that the consequences would be dire.

"Oh my God! I'm late. What time is it? Where are my clothes?"

"Amita, please, calm down. You're not late. You're right where you're supposed to be. Hey, look at me."

Charlie took her by the shoulders and waited for her to focus on him. Her eyes seemed to clear after a second as she looked around at the now-familiar surroundings, and Charlie, realizing she was now cognizant of the situation, slid out of bed and went to the door, cracking it just slightly.

He peered out through the crack at Don, who satisfied that Charlie was indeed awake, had started to turn away. "Okay, Don, we're up. You and David are leaving?"

Don didn't turn back but spoke over his shoulder. "Yeah, it should take us at least two to three hours to get back here between traffic, customs and airport security."

"Thanks, Don. That will give us time to get showered and dressed."

He could feel a bit of nervousness inside – today was the day; he was finally meeting Amita's parents. He hid it with a smile as he turned, and caught her eyes. "Okay, who gets the shower first?"

* * *

Don and David got to the security gates well before the scheduled landing time of the flight, and stood at the back of the crowd waiting for arriving passengers. They placed themselves separately, scanning the gathered group inconspicuously, looking for anyone who matched the description of Amita's attacker. There was no one even close, and Don couldn't help the small nagging doubt that had risen in the back of his mind.

It had been there since yesterday. He'd been passing through the dining room, and saw the articles that Mariette had given Charlie, peeking out from his school satchel sitting on the table. What struck him was the tidy, small hand written notes along the border of the page. He immediately recognized the handwriting as Mariette's and impulsively, slipped the pages out of the satchel and looked them over.

Cultural influences, religious intolerance, racism, misogynistic attitudes and practices, and even slavery, to some extent, still existed everywhere in the world, including the United States, which professed religious and social freedom. Unfortunately, that freedom sometimes protected fanatics. From the looks of the articles, fanatics existed in India, as well. Don had initially agreed with Charlie about Amita's parents. These people were intelligent and educated. They had lived in the United States for many years and had raised their daughter here as well. To think that they could have suddenly changed their view point to reflect some barbaric means of retribution in the name of family honor just wasn't something he was willing to buy.

He read the articles and as he read, he remembered Amita telling him about the arranged marriage that her parent's had set up. He remembered her talking about the attack being an Indian matter. It was then that the thought came; creeping into his mind and squatting like the ugly thing that it was. Charlie had told him that Amita's parents were strict in their beliefs – Amita had refused an arranged marriage, and Don knew that Charlie was terrified that they wouldn't find him acceptable. Don couldn't help wondering just how strict theymight be. Were they strict enough to hire a man to scare their daughter into conforming with tradition?

He had pushed the thought away as soon as he had it, telling himself that the horrid stories had put the outlandish idea in his head. He almost angrily pushed the pages back into Charlie's school satchel and made his way out to the kitchen for a cup of coffee refusing to buy into speculation about people he had never met.

But now, as he stood there in the airport, it came back to him. Just what kind of man was Sanjay Ramanujan? Did his beliefs extend to the point of intolerance? Granted, the attack had seemed vicious, but the man had stopped before any real harm was done. Was that because he'd been interrupted by Charlie and Larry, or had he planned it that way – selected that site so someone would stop him? Don hated to even think that way, but after years of seeing the kind of things that people could do to each other, he wasn't surprised by anything anymore. He took a deep breath, and tried to clear his head. He wouldn't believe that, he told himself, not without proof.

He knew them the moment he saw them. They were a regal, distinguished looking couple, Mr. Ramanujan in a custom fit sport coat and tailored pants, and Amita's mother in a beautiful sari, made of obviously expensive silk. Don nodded to David, and they converged on the couple, striding forward. Don held out his hand.

"Hello, Mr. Ramanujan. I'm Special Agent Don Eppes," he said and then indicated David, "and this is Special Agent David Sinclair."

The other man grasped his hand, and then David's. "I am Sanjay Ramanujan. This is my wife, Tapti."

Tapti gave Don a graceful nod, but did not take his hand. Don nodded back, and took a quick assessment of Ramanujan. Keen eyes spoke of a superior intellect, and his proud bearing gave Don the impression that the man didn't often fail to get what he wanted. Both of them had to be exhausted from the long trip, but they seemed alert and unruffled. Don wondered how much of that self-control was bred by their culture, and how much was inherent in their personalities.

"Perhaps we should get you and your wife down to the baggage claim," Don suggested. "Then we'll take you to your daughter."

Ramanujan nodded. "After we have had a chance to see her, I would like to know what is being done to catch this man who hurt our daughter."

Don could understand the man's desire for information. Don walked beside the Ramanujan's while David walked slightly behind the group still scanning the crowd.

"I will tell you everything that I can, but the case is under the jurisdiction of the Pasadena Police department. We are handling the security for you and your wife as well as Amita."

Sanjay stopped dead in his tracks and David had to be stop quickly or he would have walked right into the back of the man.

"The FBI is not investigating this crime? Why not?"

Don looked at this man with renewed interest. A guilty man would not welcome a Bureau investigation.

"No sir, it is a matter of jurisdiction, but because Amita has consulted for the Bureau we are involved in the case and are working with the local police department."

Don held his hand out toward the escalators at the end of the wide passageway leading to the lower level of the concourse and baggage claim to get everyone moving again.

"I see. I will require the name of the police officer in charge of Amita's case then."

Don handed one of Mariette's cards to the man as they disembarked from the escalator and turned away from Don effectively dismissing him with his body language. Their formality was daunting and it almost qualified as rude, but Don assumed that to be a cultural difference. Once Ramanujan was told that the FBI was not in charge, he moved his focus to those who were. Don thought about Charlie, back at home, a bundle of nerves over meeting his possible future in-laws. Don was already feeling sorry for him, and they hadn't even met yet.

* * *

Amita peered anxiously out the front window, as Alan moved through the room, doing a last bit of tidying. Colby had moved out to the kitchen, and Charlie stood in the center of the room as if rooted. When she exclaimed, "They're here!" he felt his mouth go suddenly dry.

He chided himself for being ridiculous – he was sure her parents were wonderful, intelligent people. There was absolutely no reason to be nervous. Still, when Alan clapped a hand on his shoulder, he jumped a foot. "Relax," said his father in his ear. "You'll be fine, son. I've been there before – it's never as bad as you think it will be."

He shot a quick glance at his father, whose eyes were twinkling with a knowing look, and took a deep breath, and forced a smile. "Okay, thanks."

Alan stepped forward to open the door, figuring that their guests might be more comfortable if som,eone closer to their own age greeted them. "Welcome," he smiled, "please come in."

The Ramanujans entered, followed by Don and David, and Amita's mother instantly stepped forward to embrace her daughter, as Sanjay shook Alan's hand, and they made introductions. Tapti held Amita at arm's length and studied the bruises on her face and neck with fire in her eyes. After a moment, she let go of her and Amita gave her father a hug who also visually inspected her outward injuries. Once he had seen for himself that she was indeed well and whole... enough his eyes turned to Charlie who also had a large bruise on his face. The question in his eyes was all the prompting that Amita needed. She stepped back and held out her hand inviting Charlie forward.

"Mom and Dad, this is Dr. Charles Eppes. I've spoken of him before – he was my advisor, you remember, when I started at CalSci, and he was the one who frightened off my attacker, and took care of me afterward."

Charlie stepped forward, and cleared his throat a little nervously, but held out his hand with a smile. As he stepped forward, Amita was standing close by on his left, and he unconsciously touched her upper arm, just briefly, as he moved. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir; Mrs. Ramanujan."

Tapti held out her hand and spoke for the first time, in a melodious voice. "It is a pleasure to meet you also, Doctor."

"Please, call me Charlie." Charlie offered his hand to Ramanujan, meeting the man's direct gaze.

"I want to thank you for protecting our daughter." said, Ramanujan simply. His keen eyes sized up Charlie; the young man's light touch on his daughter's arm did not go unnoticed by either of her parents.

"Please, come in and sit down," offered Alan, gesturing to the living room.

Ramanujan nodded, glancing at Don, who was standing by, quietly observing the introductions. "Thank you, Mr. Eppes."

"Please call me Alan."

Tapti and Sanjay took seats on the couch on either side of Amita while Charlie sat in the recliner opposite them, but it was Tapti who spoke first.

"Thank you, Alan, for your hospitality and for allowing our daughter to stay in your home."

Alan exchanged a quick glance with Charlie and smiled graciously. "Actually this is Charlie's house, I live with him, but you are most welcome. Amita is always welcome here."

That statement was met with an unreadable look from Tapti and Sanjay. Don began to understand why Charlie had been so nervous about meeting these people. Tapti turned to her daughter and took her hands.

"Amita, dear, please tell us what happened when this man attacked you."

Amita looked even more nervous than Charlie at that moment and Don wished that Megan were here to evaluate while Amita relayed the story. Don made note of the expressions on both of her parents faces as she retold what had happened and he also noticed that she left out the comments that were made to her by her attacker. He began to get the distinct impression that she was trying to avoid telling them that she and Charlie were dating.

Alan stood by Charlie with a hand on his shoulder offering moral support and Don got the distinct impression that Sanjay also noted by this. When Amita finished her tale, her mother enveloped her in a tender embrace and turned her eyes to Charlie.

"Dr. Eppes..."

"Please call me Charlie."

"Charlie, we are forever in your debt. Amita is our only child and our shining star. To think that we almost lost her makes my heart ache."

Amita turned her gaze to Charlie and the love radiating from her expression was clear to everyone present. What Don was having difficulty discerning was how this revelation was effecting the Ramanujans. Sanjay looked neither angry nor pleased. He once again raked his gaze over Charlie but his face betrayed no real feeling, though his eyes flashed with some strong emotion. Tapti on the other hand looked from Amita to Charlie and Don got the strong impression that she was trying to decide if she approved. She had a clearly suspicious look on her face as though she had caught Amita in some sort of lie. This only served to increase Don's unease about her parents' involvement. He wanted to get a better sense of where they stood emotionally so he decided it was time to bring up the change of venue they wanted to implement.

"Mr. and Mrs. Ramanujan, I would like to talk with you about your hotel reservations. The fact that a sheet of paper with your flight and hotel reservation details was the only thing taken by this man from Amita's apartment makes you and your wife a target for this individual in our eyes. We would like to change your accommodations…"

"That will not be necessary, Agent Eppes."

Don's eyebrows shot up in surprise upon hearing this from Tapti Ramanujan. She continued to speak before he could say anything.

"If this man is targeting us as well as our daughter then it would be foolish to change our accommodations and lose an opportunity to apprehend him."

Amita was genuinely alarmed by this and almost shreiked. "Mom, no! You can't use yourself as bait."

The fierce anger that shown in Tapti's eyes actually made Amita shrink back from her mother by an inch, something that Don noted.

"I do not fear this man, Amita. He tried to take you from me and it is HE who should fear me."

David had the uncanny impression that Tapti Ramanujan was suddenly like an angry tigress defending her young.

"We will remain in the hotel room we arranged for. I have complete faith in my husband and your police department that we will remain safe and unmolested."

Tapti's tone was final but David decided to try to get her to see reason. "Ma'am, one of the ways that we keep you safe and unmolested is to move you to a location that this man does not know about."

Sanjay looked to his wife about to say something but held his tongue as they stared at each other. She had an unyielding look on her face and it was obvious that the woman had dug her heels in on this point. Sanjay seemed to come to some sort of conclusion and turned back to David and Don as if he and his wife had just held a conversation when no words were uttered.

"We understand your concerns, Agent Sinclair, but we prefer not to alter our plans."

That non-verbal communication kicked Don's unease into high gear and he found himself really wishing that Megan had been present for this encounter.

TBC


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

Sanjay Ramanujan turned his attention to Don and asked what had been done to apprehend the man who had attacked Amita.

Don replied levelly. "We have several leads that we are following, and bulletins out for the man – we've got a good description, including a facial wound."

This statement made Sanjay raise his eyebrows. "Did either Amita or Charlie actually see this man? I thought that he had a mask on."

Amita shuddered which brought her father's attention to her. "He did have a mask on, Bapa, but I saw his eyes and his mouth. I cut his face with my keys. I am sure that if I saw him again I would recognize those eyes. I could tell the basic shape of his face even through the mask. I could see his skin color and I'm sure that the description that I gave the police is pretty accurate even though he was covered. The cut on his face will make him stand out. It's only a matter of time before he is caught, assuming that he hasn't left the city or the country."

"Why would he leave the country, Amita?" Tapti asked her daughter.

"He is from India, Mom. His accent was unmistakably from the northern states."

Tapti frowned in confusion at her daughter. "Amita, my dear, both your father and I also have speech that marks us as Indian, but we spent most of your life here in California. I do not see the logic in your assumption that this man lives anywhere in India. What exactly did this man say to you? There must be some reason that you have come to the conclusion that he is not from here."

Amita looked decidedly uncomfortable and Don wanted to move this conversation to more neutral ground.

"Amita has already given the police a full statement about this attack and it needs to remain confidential at this point in the investigation. I'm sorry, we are not trying to be difficult; this is a protocol issue. In the meantime, we intend to keep Amita as well as both of you under protective custody for the duration of your visit or until the suspect is apprehended."

Sanjay interjected almost vehemently at that statement.

"I do not care for the sound of that, Agent Eppes. To be in custody whether protective in nature or not has a difficult connotation to it. I'm sure you can understand that."

Before Don could respond he turned to Charlie with a stern set to his jaw although his words were very polite.

"Charlie, is there a place where we may speak privately with our daughter?"

The request and his unyielding stand on protective surveillance only served to deepen the suspicion that had been growing in Don's mind, and he found himself wishing that he could hear what was going to be said even as Charlie rose, using body language to usher everyone else out to the kitchen.

"Make yourselves comfortable here in the living room, and take all the time that you need."

As he, Alan, Don and David moved out of the living room and through the dining room to the swinging door leading to the kitchen, Charlie saw Amita's parents both move closer to her as if enfolding her in a protective embrace. Don, however, noted the stern look in her father's eye and viewed the body language with a somewhat different perspective.

Sanjay waited a moment after the swinging door had closed behind the Eppes and Agent Sinclair to speak.

"Amita, this is one of the reasons your mother and I want to see you settle down. Bitiya, you need a husband to look after you..."

Amita's eyes flashed with anger that her father would resurrect that old argument at a time like this.

"I don't believe you! I have already given you my decision about marrying Aditi Pankajakshan!"

"Yes of course, and we understand that decision. In any case Aditi has chosen a wife; some woman he met in Paris while he was there on business a few months ago. My point, Bitiya, is that you should not be alone, especially with your mother and me so far from you."

"So your answer is to marry me off? You think I need a man to protect me?" Amita's voice had risen as she spoke and tears of anger and frustration threatened to spill over.

"Yes, child, it is obvious that you do."

"I am not a child any more, Bapa! I have earned my place amongst my peers. I have a doctorate and am on a fast track to tenure at one of the most prestigious universities in this country, and yet you still insist on treating me as though I were ten years old."

Tapti tried to sooth her daughter to no avail. "Amita, my dear, your father and I are very proud of your accomplishments. We respect you as an adult and a scholar. But, you are our child; you must know that we only want what is best for you."

"I am NOT a CHILD!"

Amita spat back then stepped around her father and ran upstairs without looking back or answering his call to return. The next thing that everyone in the house heard was Charlie's bedroom door slamming shut.

Out in the kitchen the hushed conversation died away as it became clear that Amita was fighting with her parents. Don could not make out all of the words that had been spoken but he knew that the young woman had directed her anger at her father and that the conversation revolved around her marital status.

Colby, who had stepped outside and rounded the house to speak to the agent positioned outside on the street, stepped back in through the kitchen door to the silent gathering just in time to hear Amita yelling about not being a child followed by the sound of footsteps on the stairs and the slamming of a door.

"I guess that didn't go so well."

Don turned to Colby and shook his head. "Colby, I'm assigning you to the Ramanujans. You'll need to take them to their hotel. They have decided to keep their reservation as is. Report to me directly as soon as they are situated."

This earned Don a raised eyebrow from the junior agent as he exchanged a significant look with Don that Charlie noticed but didn't quite understand. Charlie wanted to question them about it, but knew that now was not the time. He had Amita's parents out in the living room and he had to deal with them first.

"I had better go see to our guests." he mumbled, a little miserably, as he headed for the swinging door. Colby stepped up behind the mathematician and placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze as they both left the kitchen.

Out in the living room Amita's father was staring off toward the stairs. The emotions playing across his face were hard to read. Charlie was certain that anger was one of those emotions but also regret and maybe even a bit of sadness. He didn't have any idea what he should say in this situation and both he and Colby stood by waiting for Mr. Ramanujan to acknowledge that they had entered the room. After a few minutes past Charlie cleared his throat nervously drawing Sanjay's attention away from the staircase that his daughter has ascended.

"Mr. Ramanujan, this is Special Agent Colby Granger. He will escort you where ever you need to go."

Colby nodded respectfully to the couple. "Sir; Ma'am."

"Thank you Agent, but that won't be necessary."

Charlie looked somewhat alarmed. "Mr. Ramanujan, this man who attacked Amita..."

At that moment Charlie found out what a formidable force Amita's father could be when pushed. He spoke in a sharp commanding voice that broached no argument. He did not shout; he didn't need to. All of his feeling was conveyed quite clearly in the crisp delivery of his next statement.

"I do not fear the man who tried to kill my child. I thank you for taking care of my daughter, Doctor Eppes. We will arrange for another hotel room for her. She has imposed upon you long enough."

"Bapa!" Amita's voice sounded from the stairs. She held in her hand a large ornamental vase filled with a stunning array of flowers as she descended the stairs. "I am no longer of an age where you can dictate where I stay or with whom I should spend my time. Did you hear nothing that I just said to you? I don't want to stay in your hotel, especially with that man still on the loose. I can't, for the life of me, understand why you would want to stay there either."

Amita stepped over to the dining room table and set the flowers down just as Don and David came out of the kitchen. Don had never seen Amita so angry and he marveled at her presence and how much she suddenly resembled her mother.

"Charlie has been more than generous; he has been a true friend. I am staying right here."

Charlie felt such a strong stab of emotion Amita's proclamation that he was her _friend_ that he nearly missed the rest of Amita's rant.

"What are you trying to prove? You refuse to change your reservations even though this man knows where you will be, and you refuse the protection that the Federal government has provided; if I didn't know better I say you actually want to confront this man."

This last statement was met by shocked silence from everyone in the room. Don paid very close attention to Amita's parents as they both reacted to their daughter's accusation. Tapti looked almost scandalized by her daughter's accusation, but oddly enough she held her head up almost defiantly. It looked to Don like she was more than ready to take this man on single-handedly. Sanjay was clearly livid, but when he spoke his voice was quiet and tightly controlled.

"Amita, you have no idea what you are talking about. It would be unwise for you to assume anything with regard to my motivations in this instance. We have not seen you for nearly six months and I thought that you might want to spend time with us now that we are here, but if you would prefer to spend your time with your friend then so be it."

_'Ow, and I thought Dad was a master of the guilt trip.' _Charlie thought, as he looked between Amita and her father.

If his father had said something like that to him he would have folded immediately and he found himself admiring Amita as she squared her shoulders and stared back into her father's eyes, not defiantly but with a stony resolution.

"Bapa, I love you and I have missed you terribly over the last six months, but this isn't about me or where I am staying. You are being stubborn and by rejecting the protection that is being offered, you are putting yourself and Mom at risk."

Having thrown the ball right back in her father's court the man took a moment to think. He had raised Amita to be strong and intelligent, so it was rather foolish to try and play a guilt game with her. It was time to compromise.

"Bitiya, I know that you don't want to hear this, but we really are only thinking about you and what is best for you, but if it will make you feel better, we will change our hotel accommodations and we will accept the FBI escort to the new location."

Amita eyed her father for a moment seeming to be trying to gauge the truth of his statement. After a moment she relaxed a little and approached him and wrapped her arms around him hugging him tightly. Her voice was muffled and strained as though she were on the verge of tears.

"I'm sorry, Bapa. I just don't know what I would do if anything ever happened to you or Mom."

Sanjay's features softened as soon as he wrapped his arms around the young woman and within a moment the tension that had been palpable in the room only moments before melted away.

Amita's mother looked to Don, having decided that he was the ranking officer and asked, "Does the FBI have different accommodations already arranged, Agent Eppes?"

"Yes, Ma'am. We have booked a room for you at the Rosewood, downtown. The Bureau will take care of the room. Agent Granger will accompany you to the hotel and an agent will be assigned to monitor security from an adjoining suite. The agents in the next suite can be immediately contacted with the push of a button and they will have visual access to the hallway leading up to your room."

"Will our movements be monitored as well, Agent Eppes?" Sanjay asked in a neutral tone.

Don could see that he didn't like the fact that he and his wife would essentially be under surveillance. "If we are to guarantee your safety, then yes, you would be put under protective surveillance." Don emphasized the 'protective' in that statement.

Sanjay looked to his wife and seemed to consider for a moment. "Agent Eppes, I am uncomfortable with our movements being monitored as though we were the subject of an FBI investigation. If we agree to this we will be staying at a different hotel and this man has no way of knowing that. I am familiar with the Rosewood. It has a monitored and secured garage. Only guests of the Rosewood or people with guest passes may park there. I will accept the change in venue and the escort to the hotel, but my wife and I would like to have our privacy maintained. The different accommodations should be sufficient protection from this man who has appeared to have targeted our daughter rather than us. I cannot help thinking that you may be missing an opportunity to arrest this man. If he were to come to the hotel where we are booked to harm us then that would be the perfect time to apprehend him, would it not?"

"We already planned on having two agents who are posing as you and your wife keep those reservations. We have no intention of squandering this opportunity. There is no way that I or the Bureau would allow you or your wife to act as bait for this suspect. As to your privacy, we have no intention of invading it, but I do still believe that it would be better for us to monitor the traffic in the hallway leading up to your new hotel suite."

On this point Sanjay would not yield. He was willing to compromise for Amita's sake but he was not going to have his movements put under an FBI microscope.

"If you feel it necessary then I cannot tell you not to have men in the lobby or outside the hotel. I will, however, insist that people watching our hotel room would be an invasion of our privacy. I am far more concerned that Amita have the protection of the FBI."

Don didn't like it, but he couldn't force the Ramanujans to accept protection. A part of him understood Mr. Ramanujan's objection to having his movements tracked, but the man's stance did nothing to ease the feeling that had grown stronger with every passing moment that he spent in the man's company. Seeing that there would be no further argument about his decision, Sanjay held his daughter at arm's length and looked at her closely.

"It has been a very long flight, Bitiya. We are going to go with Agent Granger and get some rest, but we would like to see you tomorrow."

Amita smiled broadly. "That's perfect. Charlie and I were planning to have a Barbecue tomorrow to welcome you and mom home for your visit. Can you plan on coming here about noon?"

Tapti looked from Amita to Charlie. "A barbecue? Amita, dear, do you think that is wise?"

"It'll be fine, Mom. There will be plenty of people here to make sure it's safe. I really want you to come, please say that you will."

Amita looked from her mother to her father with hope shining from her eyes. Sanjay Ramanujan could never resist her when she looked at him like that and relented.

"As you wish, Bitiya. You look very tired, you should rest now. We will call you tomorrow before we come."

Amita's previous anger was completely gone and she seemed almost giddy as her parents left. As soon as they drove away with Colby she turned to Charlie, beaming.

"I think they like you, Charlie."

Charlie didn't look so sure but he smiled back at her. Don left David at the house and told Charlie that he would stop by and talk with Mariette before heading into the office. He planned on going over all of his impressions with Megan and he wanted her perspective on the Ramanujans tomorrow when she had a chance to meet with them first hand. It wasn't that he didn't trust his own skills of observation. It was more a matter of having someone confirm his own suspicions.

* * *

Jitendra heard the argument that ensued concerning the new hotel reservations for the Ramanujans. He could hear the anger in the father's voice and nodded his head in silent agreement as the man insisted on a separate hotel room for his daughter. He was shocked to hear her defy her father openly and even go so far as to imply that he might actually wish to meet with her attacker.

This further cemented his opinion that she had been warped by this American suitor of hers, but it also gave him the beginnings of an idea. This Jew had a strong influence and that would soon come to an end. He would need to listen closely to what was being said at this gathering tomorrow and hopefully find an opportunity to put his plan into motion.

TBC


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N - **Special thanks to _**Serialgal **_who has stuck with me through all of these delays. School's out and the kids are home. Not such an easy task when you work the night shift. Oye! Fear not I have not given up on this story, I am just working it around my home and work life. I don't want to just slop it together either because it will be the last Numb3rs story from me for a while. I am currently working on the next chapter and I thank all of you who have stuck with me this far. Thanks again for your support.  
Alice I

**Chapter Sixteen**

Don had serious questions in his mind about Sanjay Ramanujan and he needed to discuss them with Megan. After Colby took the Ramanujans to their new hotel, he told David to go home and get some rest, leaving a junior agent named Roy Harkins at the house before he contacted Mariette and asked her to meet with him at the Federal building. He wanted to discuss his misgivings with her as well and get an update on the PPD's end of the investigation. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Don couldn't help noticing a slight flutter in the region of his stomach when he looked up from his discussion with Megan to see Officer Mariette Clement walking through the bullpen toward his cubicle.

"Wow, you made great time," Don commented as she approached.

"Well, it helps that I was already on my way here when you called," she replied, with a wink.

Don was suddenly all business. "You have a lead?"

Mariette handed a folder to Don as Megan rolled her chair over into Don's cubicle. Mariette simply leaned against his desk as she spoke.

"We checked every car rental place near the airports and got a lucky hit. A white utility van was rented three and a half weeks ago by someone named Hatim Masood. The van was returned the day after the attack. The clerk who took the van back said that he noticed that Mr. Masood had a cut on his cheek and was concerned that there had been an accident with the vehicle. Since the van was clean and undamaged he gave back the deposit and didn't think anything else about it until we questioned him."

Don sat forward interested. "That gives us a time frame to work with."

"That was my thought. The van was rented at an Avis near LAX so I'm thinking that he flew in there. We need to check all incoming passports up to three days before the van was rented and compare them to all outgoing passports from the day before yesterday through today."

Megan didn't look convinced. "You think that he has left the country?"

"It's a possibility. This man had that van for three weeks and he returned it the day after the attack. It seems at least plausible that since he can't get to Amita to finish the job, he may have decided to turn tail and run. Perhaps his only goal was to frighten her and the job actually was done."

Megan shook her head. "If that were the case then why trash her office and break in to her apartment? No, the level of violence and the commitment to this has been too exacting to believe that he just gave up and went home. He has something else in mind. The fact that the van he was driving was seen at CalSci the night of the attack would be a reason enough to return it and rent some other vehicle. We should check for other rentals that occurred on the day the utility van was returned."

"If that were the case, we'd have no idea what he would have rented. It would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack."

Don rubbed his jaw in thought. "You're right, but if we can get a positive ID on a passport photo we can blanket the rental agencies near LAX to see if anything else was rented by the same guy."

"Why restrict the search to LAX?" Mariette asked.

"Well, if he returned the van then he was on foot, right? Unless he took a cab from the Avis rental place, he probably walked. Megan, when Colby gets in have him check the cab companies that service LAX and start asking about vehicle rentals near the Avis office."

"I can send in one of my officers to give Agent Granger a hand with that. It will be helpful if we could run the passport ID's we get through the FBI's databases. The clerk, Rory Denton, gave us a detailed description of the man, which matches the information we got from Professor Ramanujan. By the way, how did it go with her parents?"

Don told them what happened at the airport and at the house, including the fight between Amita and her father and as he did so it was apparent how he felt about the man, and that he had strong suspicions. Megan listened to everything carefully but she paid as much attention to Don's delivery as she did the information he was imparting.

"Don, it isn't that unusual for Amita's parents to refuse protection. I agree it could be looked at as suspicious, but by the same token it isn't inconceivable that they would view having their every move monitored as a challenge or even an accusation of some kind."

"I'm not just making a snap judgment about this man, Megan. From what I observed I think it's reasonable to include him as a suspect as far as involvement with this attack is concerned."

Mariette was the one who had introduced the idea that Amita's family could be involved and she was now wondering what had brought about this difference in Don's opinion on the subject.

"When I brought up the notion that Amita's parents could have played a part in arranging the attack I got the impression that you felt the same way your brother does about it. What changed your mind?"

"I have to admit that after reading those articles you gave Charlie, I found myself wondering if it could actually be true. I don't want to believe it, but Amita's father was formal almost to the point of being rude. He looked at Charlie with thinly veiled animosity when it became apparent that they are more than just friends and colleagues, and when we told him that we had made alternate hotel accommodations for them he flatly refused."

Megan frowned in confusion. "But, I thought that they were staying at the Rosewood."

"They are, now. Amita had a fight with her father and accused him of wanting to meet with her attacker. That's when he changed his mind."

Mariette raised her eyebrows at that. The sudden change of heart after an open accusation would raise anyone's suspicion. "Well, the van was impounded by the PPD and our forensics department will take the entire day to go over it with a fine tooth comb."

Everything about this attack and the break-ins painted a picture of a man who was professional and someone who had some experience in covert operations or at the very least covering his tracks to avoid detection. Finding the van that had been rented was a lucky break, something that was a result of a lot of legwork and even then, it might not belong to the man they were looking for. The fact that this van was returned by a man with a cut on his left cheek was compelling evidence but it still didn't constitute proof, and Mariette wanted to be as thorough as Amita's attacker was being. With that thought firmly in mind, she wanted to check passports at all of the LA area airports.

Don and Megan worked with her on this task, each taking a different location. Megan took Burbank Airport, Don handled Long Beach and Ontario airports, and Mariette checked LAX. The search took them the better part of the afternoon and netted them twenty-seven possible suspects that fit the description. Rory Denton, who had accepted the return of the van, had left work for the day and wasn't answering his home or cell phone, which frustrated Don to no end. The man had been asked to remain available for further questions and yet they were unable to contact him.

Don and Mariette took a folder with printouts of all of the passport photos and went to the Denton's apartment where they met his roommate, who was clearly stoned. That didn't help Don at all because if their witness was under the influence of drugs at the time he ID'd a suspect, his identification would be thrown out.

"I'm Special Agent Eppes with the FBI, and this is Officer Clement with the Pasadena Police Department."

Don was hoping that the formal introduction might get the man who answered the door to sober up in a hurry, but instead he responded,

"Totally awesome, dude! A G-Man and a beautiful cop. This is too cool; Rory won't believe this."

"Well, why don't you tell us where we can find Rory, and we'll make him a true beliver." Mariette said in a pleasant voice.

"No can do, dudette. Rory's on a 'hot date' and if he gets lucky, which he usually does, I won't see him till sometime tomorrow."

Having hit a complete dead end, Don and Mariette decided to call it a night and to try to talk to Rory in the morning. As Don and Mariette walked down to the parking lot from Denton's apartment, Mariette turned to Don with an uncertain expression on her face.

"Amita invited me to the house tomorrow for this barbecue. She was still so vulnerable and upset about the attack that I didn't want to say no."

"Then don't. It will be a good opportunity for you to meet Sanjay Ramanujan and come to your own conclusions about the man."

Mariette didn't miss the winning smile that lit up Don's face when she mentioned that she had been invited. "I suppose it would be a good opportunity at that. Perhaps I can even come to some conclusions about a certain FBI Agent," she said with a wink, then turned and walked toward her car.

* * *

Even though her sleep was still disturbed by bad dreams, Amita awoke with a renewed enthusiasm. She was determined to put the attack behind her and move forward with her plan to introduce Charlie as an important part of her life to her parents. She was certain that they would not only approve of Charlie but welcome him after they realized he had saved her life from this man.

Charlie, however, did not share Amita's optimism about her father. Her comment that he was a 'true friend' coupled with the way Sanjay Ramanujan looked at him did little to bolster his spirits. Amita had told him that her father would have a problem with him not being Indian and as much as he tried to tell himself that these were worldly and intelligent people who were beyond racial prejudices, he couldn't deny the the feeling that he had gotten when Mr. Ramanujan turn hard eyes on him yesterday.

While Amita showered, Charlie sat sullen-faced in the kitchen with a cup of coffee, his thoughts turned inward, and he didn't notice his father come in and stare at him for a few minutes before making his way over to pour himself a cup of coffee and join his son at the table.

"Things will go fine today, Charlie."

Charlie looked up at him not having really heard him. "What?"

"You look a little nervous."

Shrugging a little, Charlie looked toward the door and listened. The water was still running so Amita was obviously still in the shower.

"It's not that. I don't think Amita's parents like me very much. Mr. Ramanujan was clearly not happy about Amita staying here, and then she told him that I was just a friend. I mean if she doesn't want to tell him that we are much more than that, how can I have any confidence in how I should act around her when we are with them?"

"Charlie, you have to realize that they were worried about her, they fly into the states only to find out that someone tried to kill their daughter. That is going to put any parent on edge and make them over-protective. It doesn't mean that they don't like you or that they would disapprove of you dating their daughter. They both seem like very intelligent people and they raised her here in Los Angeles. Don't you think that they would respect her wishes as to whom she wants to spend her life with?"

"Dad, need I remind you that these are the same people who tried to arrange a marriage for her. That's a pretty arcane practice for intelligent cosmopolitan people. From what I've read if they are that traditional then she and I are an impossibility. I'm not a member of her caste. We come from completely different worlds."

"You know, Charlie, the practice of arranged marriages isn't exclusive to the Hindu culture. Your own heritage is filled with it. As a matter of fact I am the product of an arranged marriage."

"You're kidding!"

"No, I'm not. My grandfather was betrothed to my grandmother by a matchmaker in the village of Hirschfeld outside of Leipzig. These are deep-seated traditions that are an integral part of many cultures. Amita refused the arrangement that her parents made, which is allowed, and so her parents will still most likely advocate a match for her. It's their way of trying to make sure that she is taken care of. It does not, however, mean that they would refuse to accept someone outside of their own culture. I'm sure that Amita's happiness is the most important thing to them and you make Amita happy. They will be able to see that. Trust me on this, Charlie; I speak as a parent here."

Charlie considered his father's words but he still felt a little uneasy about the fact that Amita didn't tell her parents that they were dating; correction, that they were seriously dating. The sound of the shower had stopped and Charlie decided that he needed to speak with Amita. He wanted to know where he stood with her and with her parents. He stood up and headed for the swinging door and paused a moment before stepping through as his father spoke again.

"Just be yourself, Charlie, and everything will be fine."

"Yeah. - Yeah, you're probably right." He didn't sound all that convinced as he stepped through the door and headed upstairs.

After showering himself and getting dressed, he sat quietly on the end of his bed watching as Amita brushed out her long raven hair, trying to figure out what he wanted to say.

"What's the matter, Charlie? I know that look, something's bothering you."

Looking into her dark eyes, he felt foolish all of a sudden. He knew that she loved him, and that she didn't consider him just a friend. His father was right; he was making too much out of a simple comment. Amita came over to the bed and sat down next to him. She took his hand and waited for him to look at her directly.

"Please tell me what's wrong. I need you to be honest with me."

"I've been thinking that your father doesn't like me very much and..."

He just wasn't sure he wanted to say what was really eating him.

"And what?"

Charlie looked down at their hands clasped together in his lap as he spoke. "Well, you told him that I was just a friend. It felt a little like you were avoiding telling him the truth about... about us." Then he looked up into her eyes. "Were you?"

She answered by leaning over and kissing him deeply.

"Actually, I told him you were a true friend, and you are, but yes, you are much more to me than that. I'll admit that there is a part of me that is afraid of how my father will take the fact that you and I are more than friends, but that doesn't matter to me, well not much anyway. Charlie, I love you and my parents will accept that; they'll have to because nothing will change the way I feel about you."

Amita's words erased the uncertainty from Charlie's mind and he finally relaxed, not realizing how tense he had actually become. As long as they were committed to each other they would make it work and her parents would see that, but he needed to let her introduce this idea in her own way. His father's words from the other night echoed in his mind, reaffirming this.

"Take it from this old man; allow Amita to take the lead in what she wants to tell her parents. She understands them and knows what they will accept."

With a renewed sense of determination Charlie and Amita worked together to prepare for their guests while Alan smiled and looked on approvingly.

Don was the first to arrive, effectively relieving Agent Derek Andros from duty at 9:00 AM. Mariette arrived at 10:30 in the morning, her expression serious. Don moved off to the living room with her to see what they had found.

"Forensics finished up with the van and did manage to find a drop of blood. It was a smear down inside the gearshift but there was enough to test. It matched the blood inside the lock on Amita's front door confirming that the van was rented by our guy. As soon as we can get hold of the clerk who took the return we'll have him pick out our attacker from the passport photographs."

"That is great news. Has anyone tried to see if Casanova has returned yet? You and I could take a quick trip over there now if you want."

Mariette smiled at the thought of spending a trip to the Valley alone with Agent Eppes, but replied, "Actually he isn't home yet. Martin Prig has already paid a visit and we've tried his cell several times. Martin was planning on returning after the noon hour to give our friendly clerk time to sober up."

* * *

Jitendra listened to the agent's conversation over the recording equipment, and felt a cold stab of fear run through his veins. He thought he had been so clever and so careful and now he was about to have his identity revealed. He reset his recording device so that he wouldn't miss anything important and left immediately.

He remembered the clerk who had taken back his rental on the van because his picture was displayed on the wall above the counter as the employee of the month three months ago. When he walked up to the rental desk he was relieved to see that the picture with his name printed clearly underneath was still there. Now all he needed was an address. There were several people in line before him so he used the time to look through a local phone book for Rory Denton. He found two R. Dentons and decided to try a bit of subterfuge. He tore the page with addresses out of the phone book and waited in line for his turn at the desk.

"I'd like to speak to your manager please."

The young woman behind the desk smiled at Jitendra and looked a little uncertain. She didn't know what she had done to have a customer immediately ask to see her boss but responded politely, "Of course sir, may I ask what this is about?"

"No, you may not," was the only response that she got.

The young lady turned and walked to a small office just to the left of the rental desk and after a moment, a large balding man stepped out and pasted an irritated smile on his face as he approached the desk.

"May I help you, sir?"

"Yes, do you have a Mr. Rory Denton working here?"

"Yes we do, but not today. What is this about?"

"I am a court appointed courier. I tried to serve these papers to him at his home in Palm Beach only to hit a dead end so I came here."

"Rory doesn't live in Palm Beach, and he isn't here today. He won't be back until Monday morning."

"I see, and what time is Mr. Denton due in on Monday?"

The manager eyed Jitendra suspiciously for a moment. "What is this about?"

Jitendra was getting nervous about the attention this man was paying to him but he remained cool. "I'm sorry, I don't know what the subpoena is for, I only know that I have to deliver it to him personally, so what time do you expect Mr. Denton to arrive at work on Monday?"

"His shift starts at eight in the morning."

Jitendra thanked the manager and left quickly. He wasn't certain that he could allow this man to live either, but that would have to wait. Rory Denton was his first concern. He pulled out the page that he had torn from the phone book and looked at the address in the Valley before getting in the van.

**End Chapter Sixteen**

TBC


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N - **Well Summer is almost over, thank goodness. You know that Staples commercial where the oh-so-happy parent rides a shopping cart through the store to the tune "It's the most wonderful time of the year!" Ah yes very soon they are going back!! Gosh I miss school, or rather my darling little ones being IN it. LOL

Chapter eighteen is actually written and dHALL has it for beta reading at the moment so it should only be a day or two before it goes up. Thanks to all those who have stuck with me over the summer mayhem. Enjoy.  
Alice I

**Chapter Seventeen**

The relief that Charlie felt after speaking with Amita began to wane as the morning crept by. He couldn't help feeling that this gathering could seriously complicate his relationship with her even more, regardless of Amita's reassurances of her feelings for him. The cold look that her father had directed at him began to become more and more exaggerated in his mind until he was almost convinced that the man viewed him as a threat to his preconceived notions for his only daughter.

On a whim, he pulled Don aside while Amita and their father worked in the kitchen side-by-side, preparing salads for the barbecue.

"Don, I've been thinking. Maybe I should give Amita the ring - now before everyone else gets here."

The hopeful glint in Charlie's eyes made Don glance back to where Amita was working at the counter. Mariette had stepped over to the younger woman, chatting amiably as she chopped vegetables. For only an instant, he envisioned that he was seeing his wife and sister-in-law preparing a family meal with their father. The thought was there and gone in a flash, but it was shocking enough to give him a shiver. It almost felt like he was getting a glimpse of a future that he longed for, but knew he could never have.

Don shook off the sensation as he steered Charlie away from the pleasantly domestic scene and out through the swinging door into the dining room.

"Charlie, have a seat; we need to talk."

Charlie froze for a moment staring at Don, not certain that he wanted to 'talk'. At his brother's urging, he sat down with a guarded sense of foreboding. Don took a deep breath and studied his brother's face carefully. He had been an investigator long enough to read the stress and anxiety in Charlie's expressive eyes and the set of his shoulders. This wasn't going to be easy, but not being completely honest with Charlie could and likely _would _be more harmful.

"Are you sure about this, Charlie? Amita is under a tremendous amount of stress right now... and so are you."

Charlie rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to object but Don wasn't finished.

"Just think about this for a minute. Do you want to propose to her now because it's the right time or because you want an ace in the hole in case her parents are against it?"

It was clear by the hurt look on Charlie's face that the accusation stung. However, Don knew that he had to get his brother to see past his emotions when it came to this proposal. Right now, after everything they'd been through, a marriage proposal could very well make Amita feel trapped and Don knew all too well that people who felt trapped rarely acted rationally. If she said no, or even asked for time to think it over, it would devastate Charlie.

The young man's hurt expression quickly morphed into one of anger and he hissed, "You think I'm trying to trick her, or force her father into something?"

"You tell me, Charlie."

"I would never do anything to hurt her, Don, and you know that! I love her."

Based on Charlie's overly defensive reaction, Don knew he had hit a nerve. He just needed to get Charlie to see it as well.

"Tell me this; is this how you pictured proposing to Amita?"

The anger in Charlie's eyes instantly melted away into an expression of guilt and uncertainty. He stood up and walked away from the table and Don realized that he had hit emotional pay dirt. Still, he wanted to make sure Charlie really got the point.

"Well, is it, Charlie? Is this what you really want?"

Don braced himself for another angry outburst or some caustic retort, but Charlie just hung his head without turning around to face his accuser. His voice was quiet and almost mournful when he spoke.

"What I want is for us to be together... always. I want her parents to _want_ me, but mostly I just want her to be happy."

Don stood and walked up behind his brother. He didn't need to see his face to know what was reflected there; he could tell by the dejected slump of the young man's shoulders.

"If you want her to be happy then give her time to deal with everything that has happened. The attack was only three days ago, Charlie. Her parents are here and she is clearly having some control issues with her father. Asking her to make a decision about marriage right now really isn't fair to her, or to you."

Charlie turned his head to look at Don. His eyes held a myriad of emotions.

"If you ask her now, and she says yes, won't you always wonder in the back of your mind whether she was saying 'yes' to you or 'no' to her father?"

The expression of surprised comprehension that crossed Charlie's face clearly told Don that he hadn't thought of it in those terms. The abject dejection that followed was almost as hard to see as the hurt feelings from Don's earlier accusation.

"You're right. I can't ask her, not now. It just seems like there is always some reason to delay, some valid excuse to postpone it. It's beginning to feel like we were just not meant to be. Maybe there's a reason why it's never the right time."

It was Don's turn to look surprised. "Now I know that it isn't the right time. This doesn't sound like you at all, little brother. The all-logical genius, wondering if the universe is trying to tell him something? Actually that sounds more like Larry than you."

Charlie had to laugh at that because it really _did_ sound like something the cosmologist would say.

"Yeah, maybe he's rubbing off on me."

"Look, Bro, let's just get through the day; let Amita deal with her parents on her own terms, and you just be who you are. You've gotta stop worrying about what they think of you, okay?"

"Now _you_ sound like Dad."

"Then maybe I'm finally rubbing off on you boys."

Don and Charlie both spun around surprised to hear their father's voice.

"How long have you been standing there?" Charlie asked, sheepishly.

"Long enough. Don's right you know. Just try to relax and enjoy the day, Charlie, and I'm sure that Amita's parents will see in you what we do, and what she does."

* * *

Jitendra drove to the valley, nervously searching for Rory Denton's address and keeping an eye out for police vehicles. He knew he needed to get to him first or it would be all over for him. The possibility of being caught and incarcerated frightened him more than he wanted to admit, yet underneath that fear was the thrill he had felt while crouched in the dark, hiding in the Jew's office. Giving into that fear and not finishing the task was out of the question; he would simply have to, once again, out smart the American authorities.

Thoughts of his own cleverness left an arrogant smile on Jitendra's face as he pulled up to the apartment building. The smile broadened as he saw that there were no police vehicles or cars with government agents sitting watch outside. There was a tenant parking lot to the left of the building and much to his delight the parking spaces were labeled by apartment number. He found two spaces marked '312' and they were in the back corner of the lot. This worked to Jitendra's advantage as he pulled into the first one with the minivan blocking the view of the second one from both the road and the building.

He didn't have long to wait. Twenty minutes after he parked, Rory Denton pulled into the second space allotted to his apartment. As he parked his car, he eyed the minivan curiously. He had recognized the rental logo on the bumper, as well as the vehicle itself.

Rory got out of his car and approached the van cautiously. This was the van he had rented to the man

the police were interested in. He didn't have a clue as to what it was doing at his apartment, but as he stepped up to the vehicle, he got the nasty feeling that this was not a good thing at all. Peering into the side mirror, Rory could see no one sitting in the driver's seat, so he silently crept up the side of the van to get a better look inside. It occurred to him that he should probably call the police and report the van's return so he stopped, and pulled out his cell phone. Looking around nervously as he dialed, Rory turned his back to the van. At that moment, the rear sliding door on the driver's side flew open, startling him causing him to drop the phone.

Strong hands reached out and pulled him into the vehicle. Rory tried to fend off his attacker but a wad of strong smelling damp material was forced over his face. Rory attempted to hold his breath until he saw spots in front of his eyes. Everything became fuzzy and distorted and within another moment darkness descended.

Dumping Rory's unconscious body on the floor, Jitendra moved quickly, getting out and snatching up the young man's phone. He had managed to dial 911 and there was still an operator calling out asking if anyone was there. Jitendra hung up the phone and wiped his prints off of it. He slipped gloves on and approached Rory's car. After a quick search, he found the keys but smiled maliciously to himself when he also found a heroin kit tucked under the driver's seat. He realized that he didn't have to move the car at all. Standing up and looking around cautiously, he went back to the van and pulled Rory from the back. He dragged him back over to his own vehicle and positioned him in the driver's seat.

Jitendra looked at the contents of the kit trying to remember what he had seen two years ago. When he had decided to convert to Muslim and take up the Jihad talked about by the men he had become acquainted with, he was sent to a 'training camp'. That is where he learned about Allah and the holy war that true believers had been fighting for endless time. He learned weapons training and combat tactics, he learned The Holy Qur'an. It is also where he saw some of his fellow soldiers use intravenous drugs.

The method for 'cooking' heroin before it could be injected wasn't difficult, but if done incorrectly could be dangerous. He must make this look as if someone with experience had cooked this heroin. Working quickly he used both spoons in the kit. He wanted to 'cook' all of the 'black tar', the street name for this form of heroin, to ensure Denton's overdose. He wasn't sure about the cotton balls in the kit. He hadn't seen them used by the men at the camp so he worked without them.

His heart was racing as he heated the spoons, fear of discovery making his hands tremble. He had to concentrate in order to prevent spilling the substance. Once he had filled the provided syringe full of the now liquid drug, he glanced around to be certain that no one was approaching the vehicles. Finding a vein and injecting the drug was an easy enough task for him. While he had never defiled his own body with such noxious substances, basic field medical training including starting IV's was also part of his training.

Once the drug was administered, he began to pack up the kit to stow it back under the seat when he stopped. From his observations of the men who were shooting up, the effects were immediate and putting the implements of their defilement away was not something any of them had ever done until they came down from their high. Keeping that in mind, Jitendra simply placed the kit open on the passenger seat and left the tourniquet on Rory's arm.

He took the glove off his right hand and felt the young man's neck for a pulse. To his dismay, he found one - very fast and thready, but still there. There was no more 'black tar' that he could cook and to use a different method at this point would ear mark this as a murder rather than a simple overdose. There was nothing he could do about it at this point; he had lingered here too long. The police were planning on coming to this place looking for Rory Denton and he must not be here when that happened.

Trusting fate to keep Denton incapable of speaking to the police long enough for him to complete his task, Jitendra got back in the mini van and left. As he drove down the street away from the apartment building, he felt his blood run cold as a police cruiser turned the corner and proceeded in the direction he had just come from. Driving carefully, yet still keeping and eye on the police car in his rear view mirror, Jitendra's heart skipped a beat when the cruiser pulled into the parking lot where, only moments before, he had been parked.

A broad smile spread across Jitendra's face as he turned the corner and drove away. Truly, Allah was smiling down on him.


	18. Chapter 18

A/N - As promised here is chapter eighteen

A/N – Let's try this again. As promised here is chapter eighteen. I have been trying to post this thing for the last 24 hours. The site's document function seems to be experiencing some problems. Thanks for continuing to read. I'll try to get nineteen out as soon as my schedule allows.  
Alice I

**Chapter Eighteen**

Charlie did his best to unwind as his guests began to show up. When Amita's parents arrived, they both seemed much more relaxed than they did during their last visit and that put him at ease somewhat. Colby added to the laid-back atmosphere by keeping the conversations light with jokes that were almost bawdy, but didn't quite cross that line. Megan, Mariette, Amita and her mother seemed to gather together no matter what part of the house or yard the main group occupied, which at the moment was the back patio and yard.

Charlie often wondered what made almost all social groups and cultures seem to section themselves off into male and female groups. From a mathematical point of view, he understood the social dynamics of it. He had even run equations based on social networking and grouping, but he had rarely ever violated that unspoken boundary and joined the women as a large group, like the one in his backyard, had migrated to smaller sub-groups.

Feeling more daring than he realized, Charlie walked over to the patio where the ladies were and wrapped his arm casually around Amita's waist. Initially, her reaction was instinctual as she moved into his touch. But as she caught her mother's eyes, her body stiffened slightly as though she had been startled. Charlie suddenly felt a moment of defiance. This was _his_ home, Amita was _his_ girlfriend, and he would not change the way he expressed himself for anyone. He had been advised over and over to just 'be himself', and by God that was exactly what he was going to do.

"Is everyone enjoying themselves?" he asked, smoothly as he gave Amita a little squeeze.

His confidence was infectious and she couldn't help but respond to his touch. She turned to him and smiled warmly as the others all mumbled polite responses. Amita saw the determination his Charlie's eyes and rather than shirk away or feel threatened or irritated by it, she supported it by leaning over right in front of her mother and giving him a light kiss on the lips.

Charlie's heart soared so high that he couldn't breathe for a moment. The smile on his face was more than enough reward for Amita and in that moment, she knew that Charlie was the man she loved and wanted to be with and her parents would simply need to come to accept that - whether they liked it or not.

Neither Amita nor Charlie saw the frown that creased Sanjay Ramanujan's face as he watched their interaction from where he stood at the Koi pond talking to Alan and Larry, but Don did. It looked like Charlie was going to have a rough time with Amita's father no matter what he did, which actually made the agent a little angry. After all, what was wrong with Amita dating one of the world's finest minds? Charlie was well off; he was highly respected in his field, as well as by other organizations including the FBI and the NSA. He was good looking and healthy. He was a bona fide genius with more awards than you could shake a stick at. In fact, he had accomplished more in his 34 years than most people did in an entire lifetime. Basically, Charlie was one hell of a catch and Don was starting to feel a deep seated animosity toward the man.

Don was glad to see that both Amita and Charlie seemed to have gotten over their nervousness and were finally acting like a couple again even though her parents were here. He realized that perhaps what Amita's parents needed was to simply get used to the idea that their daughter had a mind of her own and would date who she wanted to rather than who _they_ wanted her to.

Charlie did not have to see Amita's father's reaction to their embrace to know that it would take some doing for him to win him over. But Amita's mother seemed accepting of the situation and that gave Charlie a feeling of hope. He remembered how his mother could work on his rather stubborn father to change his mind about some things - such as him going to Princeton when he was thirteen. Alan was dead set against Princeton and yet Margaret worked her magic and before Charlie knew it he was flying 3,000 miles away to go to college, albeit with his mother in tow. Charlie had hopes that Amita's mother would have the same effect on her father.

As the afternoon flew by, Mariette got Don's team involved in a spirited game of Ultimate Frisbee, which was as entertaining to watch as to play. Even though it was essentially a non-contact sport, Charlie was not even going to attempt it since he had refused to use his cane while around Amita's parents and his leg was getting tired. Amita was still quite tender from her injuries, and Alan simply raised his hands saying something about preferring to watch since his AARP insurance didn't cover accidents as a result of foolishness. Larry kissed Megan and told her to show them what she was made of, but also declined to join in on the physical sport.

After discreetly asking her daughter the way to the bathroom, Amita's mother excused herself, but not before giving her husband a significant look. After a few minutes Amita's father asked Alan if he would like some more iced tea from the kitchen.

"Oh, I can get that for you." Alan quickly offered, but Sanjay raised his hands.

"It is not a problem, Alan. I am unfamiliar with this game, but I can see that you are enjoying watching them play. I will return shortly."

Alan didn't insist that he play host because he had seen the exchanged look between husband and wife, so he simply nodded and turned back to the game just in time to see Colby jump to catch the disk before falling into the Hydrangea bushes at the far end of the yard. Alan groaned to himself and shook his head.

"I swear. Those poor Hydrangeas barely survived the boy's high school years!"

Amita and Charlie both laughed, but they could see that the sturdy plants had weathered Colby's crash into them pretty well, with only a few blossoms broken off of their long stems.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sanjay Ramanujan stepped into the kitchen. Not seeing his wife, he moved across the room and through the swinging door, which had been left propped open. As he stepped out into the dining room and living area, Tapti glided down the stairs toward him.

Gazing at him lovingly, she smiled as she said, "Our daughter is very fortunate to have such caring friends, Sanjay."

A scowl creased his forehead in spite of the fact that Sanjay did not disagree with his wife. The Eppes', as well as the FBI agents, all seemed very protective of Amita and were clearly friendly with her. She had chosen her friends well. Tapti stepped up to her husband and slid her arms around his waist as she stared up into his deep chestnut colored eyes.

"I remember the day that I fell in love with you as clearly as if it were yesterday. My mother knew. She could see it in my eyes. She could see it in the way I looked at you."

Sanjay caressed Tapti's face with his hand. "I remember that I fell in love with you the moment I laid eyes on you. You are the most radiant woman I have ever known."

The couple stared at each other for a few minutes before stepping apart. Sanjay filled the silence before his wife could say what he knew she was going to.

"I contacted Kapil. He is living here in LA again. I thought he and Amita would enjoy going out to dinner with us."

"I'm sure she would enjoy that, Sanjay; they were very close when they were young."

Sanjay seemed bolstered by his wife's response. "Yes, they _were_ very close. And Kapil comes from a good family. They are well suited to each other."

The smile that touched his wife's lips was in contrast to her raised eyebrows. She had the look of one who knows something that no one else is privy to.

"Sanjay, Amita has already chosen someone for herself."

He knew what his wife was suggesting, still he asked, "But what of Kapil? He would be a very good match for Amita."

There was that smile again. "I do not think that either Kapil or Amita would agree with you."

Sanjay was becoming irritated now. "But you just said that they were very close and that she would enjoy seeing him again. He is a strong, good looking young man. He is top of his field and has intelligence that matches our daughter. He is of the same caste and beliefs. They like each other and enjoy each other's company!"

"Sanjay, Kapil doesn't date girls."

"That's ridiculous, why wouldn't he date..."

Sanjay stopped speaking as comprehension dawned on him. And even then, he just stood there looking at his wife with his mouth hanging open, completely stunned at this revelation. "Are you sure?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As Colby crashed to the ground again diving for the Frisbee, Don called out to his father, "Hey, Dad, is there any of that Ginger tea left? I think Granger could use an edge."

"Very funny, Eppes, at least I caught it!" the younger agent shot back.

Alan turned to Charlie and said, "Why don't you help me bring out the cooler? It's got tea and a few beers in it. I think these guys are working up enough of a sweat to appreciate that."

Alan and Charlie moved off to the house and while Alan arranged the bottles of beer in the cooler, Charlie stepped into the kitchen to get more ice and a few bottles of the Ginger and Ginseng tea that Larry had brought.

The swinging door to the dining room was held open by a door stop and while Charlie did not intend to eaves drop, he couldn't help overhearing the conversation between Amita's parents. He stifled a snicker when Mr. Ramanujan's proposed suitor was reveled to swing a different way. He knew he should have taken the bag of ice that he held in his hand and gone back outside. In retrospect he wished he had.

"Yes, of course I'm sure," Charlie could hear the smile in Tapti's voice as she continued speaking. "But it's irrelevant in any case. Amita has made her choice. She is in love with Charlie. Can't you see it in her eyes when she looks at him?"

That statement made Charlie's heart soar, and he found himself frozen in place as Mrs. Ramanujan's words reverberated in his mind. It was the next words, spoken by Amita's father, which changed everything. Alan had just stepped in through the kitchen door to see what was keeping Charlie when Sanjay Ramanujan's deep voice rang out, stopping him in his tracks.

"But he's a Jew..."

Charlie's fingers, as well as the rest of him, went numb and felt as cold as the bag of ice he was holding. The ice crashed to the floor giving away their presence and the conversation in the dining room abruptly ceased.

Alan, looking both confused and angry, said something to Charlie, but he didn't hear it. It wasn't as if the younger Eppes was unaware of the discrimination that was associated with his own heritage, but he had never heard it stated so blatantly and in such a derogatory context… and never in personal reference to him. Feeling as though the bottom had just dropped out of his world, Charlie registered that his father was speaking somewhere in the back of his mind, but the words were lost on him as he experienced a sort of tunnel vision. All he could see were his car keys and the back door. Grabbing the keys from where he had sat them on the kitchen counter, Charlie turned and walked past his father and out the back door.

Alan, torn between the desire to confront Sanjay Ramanujan or to run after and comfort his son, called out after him, "Charlie, wait. Charlie!"

He got no reply, but his voice carried out to the back yard. Amita turned to see what was going on. When she saw the look of devastation on Charlie's face, she felt her heart sink.

The desire to comfort Charlie won out over his anger and Alan hurried after his son, who was walking very quickly despite his sore leg. Amita also charged off after Charlie calling out to him. "Charlie? Hey, Charlie, where are you going?"

Charlie didn't reply to either of them. Alan and Amita ran after Charlie with Don now following. They watched Charlie open his door and slide into the driver's seat. He turned the car on and gunned the engine, driving on the grass to get around Don's SUV before peeling off down the street.

"What the hell?" Don looked at Amita and saw only confusion and fear in her eyes. He looked at his father and saw a seething anger reflected in the old man's eyes. "Dad? What just happened?"

Alan didn't answer, but turned and quickly walked toward the back yard. As he rounded the corner, both of Amita's parents had come out the back door looking nervous and upset. Charlie's unexpected departure had brought the game to an abrupt halt. Everyone stood back a little when they saw the dark fury on Alan's face, the determination on Don's, and the teary confusion in Amita's eyes.

As the Ramanujan's stepped down to the yard, Tapti was looking at Alan and cringed a little when she saw how angry he was. He had obviously also overheard the conversation between she and Sanjay.

"I am so sorry..."

Sanjay felt very badly that his last comment had come out the way that it had, but he felt even worse that it was over heard by Alan and Charlie. He was not, however, going to allow his wife to apologize for him.

"Tapti, please. Alan, what you heard was an unfortunate choice of words..."

Alan exploded with enough fury to make Don back up a little.  
"An unfortunate choice of words!"

"If you will allow me to explain..."

"I know what I heard. There is no explanation for what was said, and this _Jew_ is telling you to leave this house right now."

Don had never in his life seen his father so angry. He could almost hear the unspoken curses that he knew his father was doing his best to contain.

Amita looked stricken by what Alan had just said. "Dad? What did you say?"

Her father didn't answer her so the young woman turned her eyes to her mother. "Mom?"

Tapti looked down; fixing her eyes on the tips of her sandals rather than answer her daughter. Amita wanted to ask Alan what had happened, but she was actually a little afraid of him at the moment. Everyone else in the yard stood in stunned silence as the scene unfolded before them.

Sanjay bowed to Alan and said, "I am very sorry for this misunderstanding, we will take our leave now."

Then, he stood up straight and walked past Alan, Don and his own daughter, heading toward the front of the house where Colby's car was parked. Don motioned for the junior agent to follow and drive them back to their hotel.

"Colby, we're still responsible for their safety. After you drop them off, remain outside on surveillance until I can get a relief agent out to you."

"You got it, boss."

Don turned to his father, who still looked as though he were ready to rip someone's head off and asked again what had happened. This time, Alan told him, with no regard to the fact that the backyard was full of people. Don didn't really seem surprised at the news of Sanjay's prejudice, but Amita looked stricken and turned away, running into the house with tears running down her face.

After a few moment of silence, Megan offered, "I'm gonna go talk to her," and followed the younger woman through the back door.

Larry ran his hands over his face, taking in the expressions of everyone gathered.

"I simply cannot believe that Amita's father would say such a dreadful thing..." and quickly added, as Alan turned an angry face toward him. "...although he obviously did. I should go and find Charles. He will need to talk to someone whether or not he wants to."

At the mention of Charlie and how upset he must be feeling, some of Alan's anger drained away. "Larry, do you know where he would go?"

"I'll start at CalSci. It is his home away from home."

"I'll go with you." Alan said, as he turned to go into the house and get his car keys.

Larry reached out and put a hand on the older man's arm. "I don't mean to be forward, but perhaps you should let me go alone, Alan. It's not that Charlie won't talk to you, it's just that sometimes when he is particularly vexed about something..."

Alan didn't allow Larry to finish. "No, you're right, Larry. He has always opened up to you more easily, ever since he was a teenager.

Don found himself almost as livid as his father, but he hid his emotions more effectively. At this point Sanjay Ramanujan went to the top of his suspect list for ordering the attack on Amita. He pulled Mariette aside and asked her what her impression was of the way Sanjay didn't acknowledge his daughter when she asked about what had been said.

"I have to admit that the incident casts Mr. Ramanujan in a very bad light, but it still doesn't mean he had anything to do with the attack on his daughter. We won't know that until we find the man who attacked her."

Don was angry and all business at this point. "Well, let's find out what our promiscuous rental agent had to say."

Mariette pulled out her phone and noticed that a message had been left for her by Martin Prig. "Martin called almost an hour ago." She smiled and shrugged her shoulders slightly as she accessed her voice mail. "I put the phone in silent mode and I guess I missed the buzz." Lifting the phone to her ear, Mariette blanched slightly as she listened to the prim voice of Martin Prig deliver his message.

Looking concerned, Don ran his hand over his face and asked, "What is it?"

Obviously stunned, it took Mariette a few seconds to relay the news. "Rory Denton is dead."

"Dead?" Don furrowed his brow in shock and asked, "How?"

"They found him in his car late this morning." She shook her head in disbelief. "It looks like a heroin overdose, Don."

TBC


	19. Chapter 19

A/N - Congratulations to Leena7! She is the first person to make the connection and figure out who Jitendra really is. Thanks to FraidyCat and Oughtaknowbetter for their beta assistance with thsi chapter.  
Alice I

**Chapter Nineteen **

Larry found Charlie's Prius parked in the faculty lot beside the Math and sciences building not far from where Amita had been attacked. As he walked over to the spot where he and Charlie had found their colleague, he noticed a piece of yellow and black crime scene tape clinging to a bush. As it fluttered in the afternoon breeze, it served as a gruesome reminder of the event that changed all of their lives just three days ago.

The campus was oddly quiet for a Saturday afternoon. Even though there were no classes on the weekend, there were usually quite a few students wandering about the campus who spent the weekend catching up on unfinished lab work or using the library, student union and the various halls for study purposes. The relative silence of the campus seemed an eerie reflection of his own somber mood. He grabbed the offending bit of yellow plastic off the bush and deposited it in a nearby trashcan as he walked over to the front entrance of the building.

Larry found Charlie sitting alone in his office at his desk. The door was open and Larry took a moment to observe his friend before entering. The young man was holding something in his hand staring at it. It only took Larry a moment to realize that it was the sapphire ring that he had purchased to propose to Amita. An almost palpable sense of melancholy permeated the air around the young man as Larry stepped into the room quietly and took a seat in one of the chairs across from the desk.

Charlie didn't look up when Larry came in even though it was obvious that he had noticed his presence. He sighed deeply and Larry could see that his eyes were moist. The two men sat in silence for a few minutes before Charlie finally looked up at his friend and mentor.

"When I heard those words... It felt like something withered inside of me. For a moment I actually felt ashamed of who I am in my own home."

Larry raised his eyebrows in shock at this revelation. "Why, Charles?"

Charlie considered his answer for a moment. "The man that I have to approach to ask for his daughter's hand in marriage just called me a 'Jew' as if that were a profanity. I don't know why, but it made me feel ashamed and then angry. I was angry with him for saying it, but I was even angrier with myself for feeling ashamed. I have never really dealt with that kind of intolerance directed at me. I've seen plenty of hatred in this world, Larry, especially now that I am working with Don and his team, but I've never had it hit so close to home. I've never been the target of bigotry in that way and I'm having some difficulty sorting out what I'm feeling."

"Charles, even the highly educated can find themselves brandishing the trappings of bigotry or, conversely, vexed by its prejudicial influence. It is not at all surprising that you are feeling conflicted in your emotions."

Charlie closed the box with the ring in it and set it down on the desk. The action had a connotation; a finality to it that resonated.

"I love Amita but I can't... I don't know if I can face her right now. That man is her father; the person who raised her."

Larry sat forward to get Charlie's full attention.

"Now that _does_ concern me. Charles, avoiding Amita because of something that her father said is wrong on several different levels. Overt prejudice or bigotry is deplorable, but how much of that mindset is a result of cultural conditioning?"

Charlie stared incredulously at his friend. "Are you actually trying to explain away what Sanjay Ramanujan said?"

"No, of course not, Charles, but I am trying to point out that perhaps there is more to what he said than either of us understands. After you left he told your father that he had used an unfortunate choice of words. Now Charles, I am not trying to make excuses for what was said; I am only cautioning that we, in turn, should not make our own prejudicial assumptions about what Mr. Ramanujan meant. Would it be fair to say that by refusing to attempt a clearer understanding of what was meant or forsaking Amita because of what her father believes are merely more insidious methods of intolerance?"

Charlie sat back in his chair mulling over what Larry said. He was still torn and didn't know what he was feeling. A part of him wanted to lash out at Amita's father for disrespecting him in his own home. Part of him was angry with Amita because her assurance that his Jewish heritage was not a problem now tasted like a lie. Yet another part of him wanted to run to her and find comfort in her arms. He was angry, sad, dejected, betrayed, lost and hopeless all at the same time, and at the moment he couldn't see any light at the end of the proverbial tunnel.

"Larry, I appreciate you coming down here. I really do, but I just need some time to think."

Larry took a moment longer to look at his young friend. It was painful to see the hurt in his eyes, but he also knew that dealing with bigotry that is personally directed at him was something Charlie had to come to grips with on his own. He nodded his head and got up quietly. When he reached the door he turned to say something else but refrained from speaking. Charlie had picked up the jewelry box with the ring in it again was staring into its dark cerulean depths. Shaking his head sadly, Larry left closing the door quietly behind him.

* * *

Don and Marriette left as soon as Don called into the office and got an agent to relieve Colby at the hotel. He wanted David to get down to the cororner's office and follow up with the autopsy and Colby needed to see what forensics evidence had been collected at the scene. Meanwhile he and Mariette would go to Denton's apartment to see where his body had been found.

Martin Prig was still at the scene when Don and Marriette arrived and just as surly as ever toward Don. It was clear to the SAC that officer Prig felt as though Don and his team had usurped his case and were trying to take over, but Don refused to allow an interdepartmental pissing match deter him from getting some answers. Whether or not Prig liked it, this case directly affected his family and if he had the chance to stay involved he wasn't going to back away.

Don examined Denton's car and looked over the heroin kit. The cotton balls had not been used, which struck him as odd. Anyone who used heroin regularly enough to have a nice little kit with all the supplies would have used them. The car was otherwise clean. Because the vehicle was found in the valley the FBI forensics team was doing the data collection which suited Don just fine and after giving them a few quiet instructions Don and Mariette went up to Rory Denton's apartment to have a talk with his roommate.

"Let's hope Denton's roommate is sober this time, because we need some answers." Don said as they ascended the stairs.

"Tell me what you're thinking?" Mariette wanted to know. Don had a pensive look on his face and it seemed to her that he doubted that this was an accidental overdose.

"I've seen enough crime scenes where drug paraphernalia was out in the open. I can't understand why Denton would shoot up and not use the cotton balls to filter the heroin. If the guy had a kit then he was a regular user and would never shoot blind tar. So why weren't they used?"

Mike McCranels sat on the sofa looking miserable as police and FBI agents looked through the apartment. A growing pile of drug paraphernalia was being formed on the coffee table but at least Denton's roommate was clear-headed this time. He was actually quite nervous and sweating every time a bong or bowl that was found in the search was placed on the table in front of him. He had ceased objecting to their presence or claiming that he had no idea where these things had come from.

Don sat down on the edge of the coffee table facing McCranels and asked a simple question that took the young man off guard.

"Why would Rory shoot up without using the cotton balls?"

At that moment McCranels' attention had been drawn to the table as a black-painted stone with a dragon on it was tossed onto it. He wasn't even thinking when he responded.

"Rory didn't shoot up. It wasn't his thing."

"Then why did we find a heroin kit in his car and your buddy dead of a heroin overdose?"

At the mention of the kit McCranels turned white and clammed up. Don exchanged a look with Mariette who decided to push the point with McCranels.

"The kit wasn't Rory's was it?"

"I... I don't know what you're talkin' about. Alls I know is Rory didn't do smack. He'd smoke plenty of pot as you can see..." he said gesturing to the pile of pipes and bongs on the table, "...but he never did the hard stuff. He was savin' up for college."

After stepping out of the apartment Don made a call to David at the morgue which verified his suspicions.

"According to the coroner there were no old track marks. The dose in his system would have been enough to kill a large man and David said that Denton was a lean and wiry. They're taking a hair sample to get a history of his drug use but this is looking a little more like murder than an accidental suicide."

Marriette stopped and stared at Don. "You do realize that if this was murder then the killer is probably our perp. That would mean that he knew we were on to him, but how is that possible?"

"Let's not jump to conclusions here. We only have a theory at this point and not a whole lot to back it up. This could have been Denton's virgin foray into the world of harder drugs. The kit was obviously not his and I suspect that it may have been his roommate's. Hell, it could be that McCranels is the one who got him to try it. We need more information, but if it turns out that our perp is responsible then your question is the first thing we need to answer. Can you discretely put together a list of everyone working on the case who knew that we were trying to get Denton to ID our van driver?"

"Yeah, that I can do but the list will be long. We're going to need some way to try and narrow the list down."

Don smiled a little at that statement. "I know a guy who can do that for us."

* * *

By the time Don wrapped things up with Mariette and his team it was starting to get dark outside. He stopped by the house to see if Charlie had returned. When Don was upset about something that he had no control over he found that diving into a heavy work load was the best distraction. He was hoping that by giving Charlie a tangible way to help with the investigation the young man would also find some reprieve from the emotional turmoil he was under. When Don arrived at the house Amita had gone to bed, Megan had left and Alan was sitting alone in the kitchen after having cleaned up after everyone else had gone.

"Hey, Dad, I don't see Charlie's car outside. Is he okay; did Larry call?"

Alan turned tired eyes to his eldest son. "Larry came by about two hours ago. Charlie's still pretty upset. He's at his office working."

Don smiled a little at that, knowing that Charlie and he were very similar in the way they dealt with stress.

"We talked for awhile, Larry and I, and he may have a point about how we reacted to what Amita's father said."

Don walked over and sat down with a deep frown on his face. "What do you mean? I can't imagine any other reaction, what the man said was pretty clear-cut."

"Was it, Donnie? How many times throughout history have wars started over miscommunication? Amita is a lovely young woman with a strong moral center. Would she be if she was raised by a bigot? I had an instinctive knee-jerk reaction to what I heard, as did Charlie, but perhaps I should have given Sanjay an opportunity to explain what he meant."

"I don't know; maybe. Look, if you're okay I'm gonna go see Charlie."

"I'm all right, Donnie. You go and talk to your brother. I'm going to bed."

"Wow, you must be tired, it's only nine o'clock."

Alan smirked slightly as he got up and headed toward the door. He paused and turned back to his eldest.

"Listen, Donnie, take some of the food with you. Charlie hasn't eaten and no matter how angry or upset he is he's bound to be hungry by now."

Don obediently went to the refridge and put together some food to take to his brother although he thought that Charlie would most likely reject the offering having had something else to 'chew on' all day.

TBC


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N** - Thanks again to Oughtaknowbetter, dHALL, FraidyCat and Jstaab for their beta assistance.

Flit, I can only answer you in an author's note because you didn't leave any other way for me to respond to your comment. Yes - Amita's family is Hindu. Yes - the bad guy is Muslim, and not to put too fine a point on it; since the entire story hasn't been told yet, naturally you don't know why this man has taken an interest in Amita or her family. Actually I take that back; a careful reader such as Leena7 will at least suspect what is going on.

I thank any reader who has stuck with me thus far. I am having the worst time getting the rest of this story out, but I haven't given up on it or you!  
Alice I

**Chapter Twenty**

By the time Jitendra made it back to the old man's house, people had begun arriving for the BBQ and he had to be very careful. He waited half-way down the street for the FBI agents who had just arrived to move into the house before driving as casually as he could up the driveway and into the old man's garage. He had to adjust the receiver's gain to pick up bits and pieces of the conversations that were going on in the back yard since the vase of flowers with the microphone had obviously been left inside the house. Luckily the door to the back patio was open and he was able to hear most of the conversations that went on close to the back door.

When the sounds of someone coming into the house became too loud, he turned the volume down and was intrigued to hear the conversation between the woman's parents.

"_Sanjay! We must apologize and explain…"_

"_This is most unfortunate. I didn't realize that anyone else was in the house. You know what I meant when I said that."_

"_But they didn't!"_

"_Yes, I can see how this must have sounded. Come, I must explain to our hosts that no insult..."_

When Sanjay Ramanujan objected to the Jew as a match for his daughter, Jitendra allowed a satisfied and vicious smile to cross his face. It served him right to suffer this Jew chasing his daughter; the child should not have been raised in this corrupt culture. When there was a loud crash directly after this comment followed by yelling it was obvious that he had been overheard by others.

The sound of screeching tires drown out the rest of what was said. Jitendra dashed over to the window but only saw Charlie's car disappear around the corner at the end of the street. He thought for a moment that he should follow, but realized that by the time he got to the van and backed out of the driveway he would have no way to find the small blue Prius. Jitendra went back to the receiver in time to hear Alan Eppes yelling loud enough to come across clearly even though he was standing closer to the driveway than the back patio.

_"An unfortunate choice of words!" _

_"If you will allow me to explain..." _

_"I know what I heard. There is no explanation for what was said, and __**this**__ Jew is telling you to leave this house right now."_

The entire exchange gave Jiterndra an idea that would fit nicely into his plans. He spent the next few minutes plotting out his next move when the voice of the brother made him jerk upright and pay attention.

"_Did you notice how Sanjay refused to acknowledge Amita when she asked him what had been said and how he didn't even look at her when they walked past her to leave?"_

_"I have to admit that the incident casts Mr. Ramanujan in a very bad light, but it still doesn't mean he had anything to do with the attack on his daughter. We won't know that until we find the man who attacked her." _

_"Well, let's find out what our promiscuous rental agent had to say." _

_"Martin called almost an hour ago. I put the phone in silent mode and I guess I missed the buzz." _

Several seconds passed and Jitendra was holding his breath waiting to hear what the message was. Had Rory Denton survived and told the police that he had been attacked or had he lapsed into a coma?

"_What is it?"_

"_Rory Denton is dead."_

"_Dead? How?"_

"_They found him in his car late this morning. It looks like a heroin overdose, Don."_

Jitendra could have leapt for joy. He was now certain that within a day or two he would be able to get on a plane and go home after pinning the whole thing on Sanjay Ramanujan.

* * *

When Don arrived at Cal Sci with enough food to feed his brother two times over, Charlie was nowhere to be found. His office was locked and dark and his car was not in the faculty lot so Don tried his cell.

Charlie picked up on the fifth ring. "I'm not in the mood to talk, Don."

Don could hear music in the background and the distinct sound of billiards being played. He thought he knew where Charlie was and headed straight for his SUV, not willing to give up so easily.

"Charlie, come on. Why don't you let me pick you up and we can go out for a beer?"

Don heard Charlie swallow. "Sorry, Bro, I'm way ahead of you there; maybe next time."

Before Don could form a reply, Charlie hung up the phone. Don simply slid into the seat of his vehicle and turned on the engine. If Charlie wanted to be stubborn then he could easily oblige. Stubbornness was a family trait that all of the Eppes men shared in abundance.

There was a billiards room and bar not far from the Cal Sci campus. It wasn't unusual to find mathematics students there working on their geometry or calculus lessons in the form of a spirited game of pool. It was a game, according to Charlie, where knowing math gave you a distinct advantage.

When Don arrived at the Six Pockets Billiard Cafe he was frustrated to find that there was no blue Prius parked in the lot and no Charlie inside. A second call to his cell netted no results because Charlie wouldn't pick up. Don considered just letting it go. It was obvious that Charlie didn't want to talk, but Don wasn't sure that was a good idea. He was also upset by what had been said and the truth-be-told he wanted to talk about it even if Charlie didn't.

It took Don about two hours and a call into the Bureau to trace Charlie's cell phone GPS to find his brother. He was at a small bar on the east side of Pasadena pretty far from the campus. When Don arrived he stood back a moment to observe Charlie as he sat at the dimly lit bar. There was a pool table just to the left of where Charlie sat as evidenced by the loud crack of someone breaking the balls at the beginning of a game.

Charlie's body language and demeanor gave Don a lot of information without either one ever saying a word. Charlie sat with his shoulders slumped as if in defeat. He wobbled slightly as he reached for the rock glass in front of him indicating that he had already had more than enough to drink even as he lifted the glass to his lips. Looking at the reflection in the mirror, Don couldn't even see his brother's face as his head too drooped, allowing his tousled curls to cover his face.

Don walked over, took a seat next to his brother and ordered a beer. He noticed that Charlie had switched from beer to bourbon judging by the three empty beer bottles just to the left, the color of the drink in his hand and the smell of his breath when the mathematician turned his head and spoke.

"I knew you'd show up after the third call. What took you so long?"

Don took a sip of the beer that had just been placed in front of him. "I thought you were at Six Pockets."

"Bad career move, students hang out there."

Don nodded; heartened by the fact that Charlie had not lost all of his good sense. "That's a good point. So your plan is to get drunk, huh?"

Charlie turned dark and troubled eyes to his brother. "Yep."

The fact that Charlie was answering in monosyllabic sentences while flagging the bartender down to order another drink made Don raise his eyebrows. This was such uncharacteristic behavior for Charlie that Don was becoming mildly concerned.

"You think that's a good idea? You're not much of a drinker, Charlie."

"It's better than getting lost in P vs. NP again or some other unsolvable problem."

Don nodded to himself. Charlie may be drunker than Don had ever seen him, but he could still put forth a logical argument – the perks of being a genius. "I suppose. So, you wanna talk about this?"

Charlie swallowed the contents of the rock glass that had just been filled in one gulp setting the glass down hard indicating he wanted another. "Not really."

The bartender eyed Charlie for a moment before obliging with a refill.

"Yeah, well I do. Listen, Charlie, this won't be the last time you have someone direct an anti-Semitic remark at you or your family."

"Yeah, but this wasn't just some jerk out on the street; it was Amita's father."

Charlie ordered another drink and sat quietly for a few minutes. Don was about to say something to him when the young man turned to face him.

"How 'bout you? You ever had anyone give you crap about being Jewish?"

Don's mind immediately went back to sixth grade. He was eleven years old and Billy Rayburn, Robert Allister and Mike Brewster cornered him on his way home from school. Billy had formed an instant dislike for Don when it was clear to everyone that the younger boy was a far better baseball player. The three boys were twelve and they had always ruled the middle school ballpark. Having a new sixth grader not only strike out all three seventh graders but out-bat them as well was a hard pill for them to swallow.

"You remember Billy Rayburn and his friends?" Charlie squinted as he tried to remember. Then after a moment, he nodded.

"Well Billy, Mike, and Robert didn't like me very much. I guess I embarrassed them on the baseball field by striking all of them out. Anyway, the three of them jumped me on my way home from school one day. While Robert and Mike held me down Billy smeared mud in my hair. He called me a Jew-boy and said that I forgot to wear my beanie."

"Beanie?" Charlie asked with raised eyebrows.

"Yeah well these guys weren't very bright. They didn't know it was called a yarmulke and they figured that if you were Jewish you had to wear one."

Charlie's eyes were wide and he asked, "Whatcha do?"

"I fought them off. What else could I do?"

"I remember those guys now. They were older than you were. Three against one? I don't remember you getting beat up though." There was a note of latent concern in Charlie's voice.

"I was still pretty strong and sneaky to boot. I ended up with a black eye and came home covered in mud, but I didn't get the worst of it."

"Really? You won a fight against three older kids?"

Don smiled wryly. "No, the fight was broken up by Mr. Hibbard. He walked me the rest of the way home and tried to defend me to mom, but when she found out that I broke Billy Rayburn's nose I ended up grounded for a week. Dad hit the roof when he found out what the fight was about and he went to each of their houses.

"Mike's parents grounded him for a month and he never really bothered me again, Ron Allister also got into pretty big trouble but Billy's father actually got into it with Dad. He was pretty pissed that Billy had a broken nose and called the cops. The thing is, just as the police were pulling up into Billy's driveway Billy's dad hauled off and popped Dad right in the mouth. He tackled dad to the ground swearing at him and calling him a filthy kike. The cops had to pull him off of dad and he ended up in jail for the night."

Charlie was shocked to hear this. He had no idea that any of this had ever happened.

"Did dad press charges?"

"Actually no, he didn't. He wanted to try to set an example for me. Personally I think he should have, but then again mom and dad didn't really want to expose you to all of this."

"Me? Why not? What about you?"

"Charlie, you were only five years old and they were still figuring out how your mind worked. They figured that you had enough to worry about without worrying about being targeted because of your heritage. I already had the run-in with Billy and his friends and I was there when Mr. Rayburn attacked dad. I was already exposed."

"Is that one of the reasons you went into law enforcement?"

"I don't know, Charlie; maybe. But the point is this kind of thing will happen. It happens to people all the time whether it's because of their ethnic background, or their religious beliefs, or because they are different in any way. I knew a girl in college who was discriminated against because she was heavy. People will always find reasons to hate other people. It sucks, but it's also human nature."

"Somehow that isn't making me feel a whole lot better." Charlie said as he took another sip from his drink

"I know, sorry. So have you talked to Amita yet?"

Charlie turned away from Don and stared at the pool game in progress.

"You should give her a chance to talk, Charlie. She obviously doesn't share her father's opinion or else she wouldn't be with you."

"_Is_ she with me, Don? I don't know. I've been trying to get her to move in with me but she keeps avoiding the subject. She wasn't sure she even wanted me to meet her parents at first. The closer it got to them arriving, the farther she got from me. How much of her father's attitude has influenced her actions, her reluctance to be with me? Does she even know if it has? I know I'm not sure, are you? I don't know what to think anymore or what to say to her."

Charlie finished off the drink in his hand and set the glass down on the bar once again. Before he could make a move to order another drink Don stood up and spoke in a commanding voice.

"Hand 'em over."

"Huh?"

"Your keys, Bro - You aren't driving anywhere like this."

Charlie tried to get up and walk away from his brother but the effect was sabotaged when he tipped precariously and Don had to reach out and catch him under the arm to keep him from falling over.

"Give me your keys, Charlie." Charlie shot him a defiant look but Don cut off the retort he was planning. "I can arrest you; and don't think for a minute that I wouldn't."

Don actually pulled the handcuffs out from the holder on the back of his belt to illustrate his point. This got the attention of the bartender who stepped over to make sure that there wasn't going to be a fight.

"Is there a problem here?"

Don ignored the man as he continued to stare his brother down. Charlie broke eye contact, hung his head as he reached into his pocket, and handed his car keys over.

"No problem." Don said to the bartender as he stowed the cuffs and keys. "Come on, Charlie, I'll take you home."

"No. I don't wanna go home. Take me to your place."

TBC


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N - **With determination and sheer persistence** Oughtaknowbetter** will eventually get me to utilize the concept of _'show don't tell'_ I thank her greatly for the enhanced scenes in this chapter.  
**FraidyCat** is gonna kill me if I change tense within the same sentence one more time and I have her to thanks for catching all those annoying grammatical errors.**  
Serialgal** is great at helping to find a clearer or just better sounding turn of phrase.  
So thanks again to all my betas.

**Chapter Twenty-One **

The journey to Don's apartment, regretfully, was _not _uneventful. The smell of the food had an adverse effect on Charlie's stomach, which became evident from Charlie's impassioned plea.

"Don, pull over!"

Don looked over at Charlie who was bobbing back and forth. "You okay, Bro?"

"Now, Don!" Charlie blurted out as his hands clamped over his mouth.

"Whoa there, Charlie... pulling over. Hang on, Buddy!" Don said as he immediately veered to the side of the road.

As soon as the vehicle came to a stop Charlie forced open the door and essentially fell from the cab. He crawled away from the truck to a short bush and spent the next five minutes retching while Don reached into the back seat rooting around.

"I'm sure there's a roll in here somewhere." he said, to himself. "Aha!" Don cried triumphantly as he extracted a somewhat squashed but still usable roll of paper towel. He tore off a few pieces and handed them to Charlie. "Dude, you are going to seriously regret this in the morning."

The comment didn't seem to register with the younger man. With some help from Don, Charlie limped and listed his way back to the SUV and climbed in resting his head back. Once they got moving again Charlie seemed to feel a little better and by the time Don parked in his assigned space at his apartment complex the mathematician had started showing some interest in the aforementioned food.

Don grabbed the bags and steered Charlie toward the door. "I'll warm some of this up for you, Bro; a bit of food would do you a whole world of good about now."

Charlie nodded wordlessly as he staggered up to the door and leaned heavily against the side of the building waiting for his brother to gain entry. Don got Charlie inside, then paused for a moment trying to decide which direction would entail the least detrimental effects while Charlie wobbled from foot to foot attempting to maintain his balance as though he were standing on the deck of a ship in 40-foot seas. If they took the elevator to the fourth floor it was possible that Charlie would throw up again because of the motion of the car, but if they took the stairs Don would have to juggle two bags of food and a very drunk mathematician while keeping him from falling down four flights of stairs and cracking his head open. Given the choice, Don opted for cleaning up the tile floor of the elevator and guided Charlie in that direction.

Much to the agent's relief they managed to make it to his apartment and inside before Charlie needed to make a porcelain deposit. Don got him down the hallway and into the bathroom just in time; all the while thinking that they were both getting a little too old for this kind of thing. With Charlie safely sitting on the floor of the bathroom, Don shifted through his drawers to find sweats, a wash cloth, and a towel for his younger brother.

"Hey, Charlie, you think you can manage taking a shower without drowning?" Don called as he stepped back into the bathroom. Charlie looked decidedly worse for the wear as he knelt in front of the toilet bowl resting his forehead on the cool surface.

"Get me through this and I swear, I'll never drink again!"

A knowing smile crept across Don's face. How many times in his own past had he uttered the very same sentiment?

"Yeah, Buddy, I know. Trust me you'll feel a hundred percent better with a hot shower and some food."

Charlie turned glassy and bloodshot eyes up to Don. He knew that Don was right, but doing as his older sibling suggested would require actually getting up from the floor. Rather than form an objection to the required movement he simply raised his hand up in the air and waited for Don to pull him to his feet.

The hot shower, as promised, helped immensely to clear Charlie's head. When he got out he saw that Don had left out a glass of water and three aspirins for him to take. Deferring to the agent's greater knowledge of what would help him more comfortably suffer the consequences of drinking far too much, Charlie simply took the aspirin without comment.

By the time he was dressed in Don's over sized sweats and a pair slippers he felt a bit better and the smell of the heated food drew him in a staggering path to the kitchen where a plate had been set out on the counter.

"Wow, this smells great," Charlie observed appreciatively as he picked up the plate. Aiming for the dinette, he staggered instead into the door-frame. Somehow, although his head sounded a solid thunk against the wood, he managed to hang onto his plate as he pin-balled off the frame. He then over-corrected his path, and barely pulled off a last-minute veer, to crash into a chair at the table where Don already sat eating, and watching with a barely concealed smile. Charlie's limp was far more pronounced with the effects of the alcohol and Don realized that the cane had been left at home, probably up in his room.

Don shook his head having a pretty good idea what Charlie was thinking and feeling as he tried to walk a straight line. They ate in silence for a few minutes thinking their own thoughts. Don's mind replayed the events of the fight from sixth grade and how that had impacted his entire mindset about himself, his heritage, his family, his father and the rest of the world. He found it mildly interesting that the person who broke up the fight was someone who had dealt with more than his own share of bigotry.

Nelson Hibbard was the first black man to buy a house in their neighborhood. He and his wife had planned to raise a family on the quiet residential street in a nice neighborhood, but things were not always what they appeared to be at face value. The Hibbards had rocks thrown through their windows from time to time over the years. Kids, usually lead by Billy or others like him, had thrown rotten eggs at the house or toilet-papered the yard on several occasions.

The Hibbards never did have children and they pretty much kept to themselves but Don found a bit of a confidant in Nelson Hibbard. The man had defended him not only to the boys who decided that three against one were fair enough odds, but to his mother and father. That day with Billy and his friends was not the last time those boys had ganged up on Don, but Nelson, who had been a semi-pro boxer in his youth, showed Don a few moves to even up the odds when they cornered him. It didn't take long for the boys to realize that Don Eppes was no easy target and they ended up backing off and resorting to verbal bullying instead.

The vicious words that the boys began hurling at him never really bothered Don, but they seemed to leave an impression on Nelson. Don made a point to always wave and say hello when he passed the Hibbards on the street and on some of the occasions when they were targeted by local kids, Don would go over and help to clean up the mess.

"Say, does Mr. Hibbard still live down the street?"

Charlie nodded around a mouthful of potato. "Uh huh." Swallowing he put his fork down and continued. "He stays inside most of the time these days, since his wife died."

"Yeah, I remember that; too bad I was in New Mexico. I would have liked to have gone to the funeral. He came to mom's. After all of this is over we should go over and see how he's doing. It's easy to lose touch and forget people, even when they live right down the street."

Charlie nodded again, but refrained from comment. The food, shower and aspirin had all gone a long way to helping him sober up a bit. He was still far from able to drive but his head felt a lot clearer and the dizziness that had made him so queasy earlier had abated. Charlie sat back in the chair looking up at the ceiling. Without consciously deciding that he wanted to talk he just began speaking.

"I know Amita loves me, and I love her but can that overcome what's been learned or perceived?"

Don picked up the dishes and placed them in the sink. "You should give her more credit than that, Charlie."

"That's not it... well maybe to some degree... although I've said the same thing to Larry... but that's not the point."

Don shook his head, eyes wide. "Okay you have me completely lost now, Chuck. What are you talking about?"

"It's not just her, or how she was raised or what her ingrained beliefs may or may not be. All of this has changed the way _I_ look at and think about Mr. Ramanujan. Can I put aside my own feelings about _him_ in order to be with _her_?"

Don looked closely at his brother. Even though he was still very drunk that statement was disturbing and something he would want to discuss with Charlie at some other time. Don grabbed two water bottles and gave one to Charlie as he moved out to the living room.

"After you left today, Amita demanded that her father tell her what he had said that upset you so much."

Charlie stopped walking and stood there a little apprehensively. "What did he tell her?" He asked as he sat down slowly on the couch.

"He didn't, he ignored her altogether. He addressed his comments to Dad who promptly kicked him out of the house."

Charlie raised his eyebrows at that. He had never seen his father angry enough to publicly throw someone out of the house; _his _house.

"After her parents left, Amita still wanted to know what had happened and so did everyone else. I gotta tell you, Charlie, Dad was so angry that _I_ even backed up a step."

Charlie nearly choked on a sip of his water when Don admitted that. He had seen his brother and father go toe-to-toe in a screaming match with neither one backing down an inch, so the image of his father so angry that Don felt intimidated was almost beyond his comprehension.

"Actually it was Dad's reaction that made me think back to the fight with Billy Rayburn and his friends. I'd seen that side of Dad before and it was just as scary then. The point is, when Dad told everyone what was Mr. Ramanujan said, Amita went white. She was humiliated and ran into the house crying. Charlie, Amita doesn't share her father's viewpoint. I saw that in her eyes when she heard what he said."

Charlie hoped desperately that Don was right and that Amita would stay by his side regardless of what her father's beliefs may be.

"I hope so," he said under his breath as he stood and pushed the coffee table back from the couch to give himself some room.

Don took the cue and went to the closet to fetch pillows and blankets for his brother. He was probably going to have a pretty good hangover the next morning but at least the food and aspirin would help negate some of the blow.

* * *

The fact that Amita had gotten little to no sleep was plainly obvious when she came downstairs. She wasn't sure whether or not she was relieved or even more upset that Charlie didn't come home the previous night. The one thing she was sure of was that she was furious with her parents and she would be having a long talk with them after she had showered and cleaned up.

Finding Alan sitting on the recliner in the living room drinking a cup of coffee and reading the morning paper made her pause for a moment. As angry as he had been yesterday he still found it within himself to come and comfort her as she cried quietly in Charlie's room. Her feelings were torn by the circumstances in which she found herself. She loved her father dearly and had missed her parents very much over the last six months, but she realized that at the moment she felt closer to Alan than her own parents which disturbed her on a very basic level.

She knew that there had to be an explanation for what her father had said. She knew him, and he wasn't a bigot. She was more confused by what happened than anyone else and she intended on getting to the bottom of it. Charlie refused to answer or return any of her calls and that coupled with him not coming home left her feeling very insecure about her relationship with him. She was terrified that this incident had ruined their chance to be happy together.

Amita poured herself a cup of coffee first before she joined Alan in the living room. She could see the black sedan parked outside with an agent sitting in the front seat as she walked toward the sofa, reminding her that she was still under protective custody. The events of yesterday played out in front of her friends, colleagues, and the FBI made her cringe with shame which was apparent on her face when she sat down.

"Not feeling much better this morning?" Alan asked, gently.

Amita sighed and leaned against the sofa cushions allowing her head to rest on the back. "Charlie never came home last night. I'm worried that I've lost him."

Alan set the newspaper down and sat forward. The movement made Amita sit up straighter so that she was looking directly at the older man.

"Charlie loves you, Amita, and nothing will change that. He just needs time to process this situation."

A wave of anger and frustration welled up inside of the young woman and she shook her head. "I can't believe that my father said that! I know he did, but it is so far off from who and what I know him to be. I'm embarrassed; truthfully, I'm mortified, but more than that I'm furious with him. I can't stay here any longer, Alan. I'm sorry."

Alan nodded knowingly and asked her, "Where will you go?"

"I need to confront my father and it seems like everyone would be better off with a cool-down period. When you see Charlie tell him I'm sorry and that I'll call him."

"I'll talk to him when he gets home. You go ahead and shower and pack. I'll tell the agent that you want to go to the Rosewood."

Amita stood, hugged Alan, and said, "Thank you so much, Alan." before turning to go back upstairs.

* * *

Don was up by eight in the morning having received a call from David. Between the FBI and Mariette's team they had some leads to follow. Charlie was still completely passed out on the couch and snoring like a chain saw. Frankly Don was somewhat surprised that the phone call had awakened him before Charlie's snoring had.

"Buddy, you sound just like Dad."

Don wrote him a quick note saying to call him when he woke up and left it under a cold glass of orange juice and a bottle of aspirin that he set out on the coffee table. He had to hold his breath as he got close due to the rank odor of stale booze that permeated each breath as it fluttered the end of a mass of tangled curls laying across Charlie's face.

It was almost nine by the time Don arrived at the federal building. Mariette had asked to meet there because she was concerned about a leak somewhere within her own department.

Martin Prig was quiet and it was obvious that he felt out of his element standing in the middle of the bullpen at the federal building on a Sunday morning. The Pasadena police department was pretty quiet on the weekends but the federal building seemed to be teeming with activity as though it were a regular business day. Don brought everyone into the war room so that they could compile all of the evidence they had so far. The media center was impressive and intimidating to the local law enforcement officer. Don didn't go out of his way to make Prig uncomfortable, but he hastily passed his hand over his mouth, hiding the smirk that threatened to damage three years of making nice with the locals. Prig was now on his turf and if that was intimidating to the local police officer then so be it.

"What do we have to further our suspicion that we have some sort of leak?" Don asked right away.

"Well, let's take a look at the evidence we have so far. Using blood and hair analysis we know that Rory Denton had never used heroin previously. As a matter of fact it looked like he only used marijuana occasionally. We already know that he had enough heroin in his system to take out a much larger man. We didn't find Denton's fingerprints anywhere on the kit or the needle and I don't know how anyone can shoot up without leaving fingerprints behind."

Don raised his eyebrows. This was conclusive proof that Denton's death was not an accidental overdose.

David piped in with his report next. "I ran a phone trace on Denton's cell."

Don turned to look at his senior agent. "Did we recovered Denton's cell phone?"

"No, but the phone records show that the last call that he made was to 911, and that the call was made at same time the coroner approximated the TOD."

Mariette stepped forward. "I don't know that there is a leak but it seems a little too convenient that Rory Denton is the victim of murder by overdose right before we can question him about the identity of the man who returned the white van seen fleeing the scene of Professor Ramanujan's attack. I firmly believe that Agent Reeves is correct in positing that this man is still in LA and has an agenda yet to fulfill. I think that the protection of Professor Ramanujan needs to be stepped up. A very real concern for us is how he is getting his information."

Don pinched his nose in frustration. "So, thus far we have no solid leads pointing us in the direction of Amita's attacker who is somehow getting intel about this case, and we have lost the only witness who could pick him out of a line-up."

To the surprise of the FBI team Officer Prig spoke up next.

"I wouldn't say that. I contacted the Avis office and spoke with the manager yesterday afternoon. Apparently a man fitting the description of our attacker showed up at the office late yesterday morning asking about Rory Denton. He claimed to be an officer of the court and was trying to serve a subpoena. He told them that he had attempted to deliver the subpoena to Denton's home in Palm Beach."

"Denton doesn't live in Palm Beach." Megan said.

Prig continued, "That is correct, and that is exactly what the manager told the man who was looking for Denton. I checked the phone book. There are only two R. Dentons listed; one in Palm Beach, and the other is our witness in the valley. We can easily verify that there are no active subpoenas for Denton tomorrow when city hall opens. This was obviously a way for the perp to verify the address of the witness. Based on the time that the perp was at the Avis office and the time that Rory Denton was found dead, we must have only missed him by minutes."

Don was duly impressed. Prig was a major pain in the ass but he was a damn good police officer. "We need to get to that manager and anyone else who came into contact with this man. If he is cleaning up loose ends and covering his tracks, then their lives are in danger."

"That has already been taken care of. Two of my team are bringing them here as we speak."

Just as Prig said that, Don looked out through the glass wall of the war room and saw two Pasadena Police officers and two civilians being escorted through the bullpen toward them.

"Outstanding work, Officer Prig."

TBC


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N - **I'm back. Sorry for the long delay, but it was unavoidable. I had surgery on my right hand and right shoulder on November 14th. I was unable to do much of anything for a few weeks. Then as I began to get a bit stir crazy I started doing everything with my left hand and arm including cooking. I am a right handed person so I am not particularly skilled with my left hand and ended up with a 2nd and slightly 3rd degree burn on the back of my left hand due to an accident with a pot-roast and a pan with scalding hot braising oil. Then my spine got sick and tired of all this compensating and T-2 popped out of placement and took my shoulder recovery to a flat out standstill. Of course with the holidays, the kids out of school and/or daycare and family from out of town things got even more busy and interesting. So now that everyone is back where they belong and my spine is almost back where _it_ belongs I can think about getting back to normal.

Since I am returning to work in 2 weeks I figured I'd better get chopping on this story and get her finished. I appreciate your patience. Thank you very much Fraidycat, Oughtaknowbetter and dHALL for doing a quick and through beta on this chapter. I did make several changes born of their suggestions so any errors now belong solely to me. I am working away on chapter 23 which will have the biggest action/whumpage sequence in it for the entire story. Believe it or not we are actually pretty close to the end. I have shortened the plot and compacted it a little bit but I think that it helps make the story more defined and less like a run-on sentence.  
Thanks again for your patience,  
Alice I

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

Dust gently danced through the luminous beam that lay quietly across tousled curls; curls that camouflaged the troubled of eyes darting behind closed lids. Charlie rolled over in response to his tormented inner visions; his face now bathed in the morning heat peeking in through an opening in the blinds and he had to raise a hand to ward off the bright strip of sunlight that assaulted his eyes. After a moment his vision adjusted to the ambient light in the room and he twisted his wrist so that he could look at his watch which read 9:15. A strong feeling of panic swept over him and he sat bolt upright; a move he instantaneously regretted as his vision swam and his head pounded unmercifully.

Charlie swung his feet off the couch and leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees holding his throbbing head in his hands wishing fervently that he was still asleep. His mouth felt pasty and dry, and he realized that he was dehydrated. Slowing raising his head he saw the glass of orange juice sitting on the coffee table and reached for it. It was warm but his thirst didn't care. The natural sugar in the juice bolstered his energy. Looking around blearily he saw the note sitting on the table, but ignored it for the moment as he stood on wobbly legs and made his way to the kitchen in search of more orange juice.

The initial feeling of panic faded immediately as the events of the previous day slammed back into his consciousness with the force of a sledge hammer which did nothing to help the monumental headache he had. Opening the refrigerator Charlie saw the orange juice sitting right next to several bottles of water. Suddenly the orange juice was less than desirable and he reached for the water withdrawing two bottles.

Charlie recalled listening to a couple of students extolling the virtues of 'slamming' a quart of water and aspirin to get over a hangover. He smiled at the time he overheard the conversation thinking to himself that the far smarter course of action would be to avoid getting the hangover in the first place.

"Didn't listen to your own counsel, did you, professor?"

He figured it couldn't hurt and he drank down an entire 16.9 ounce bottle as he stood over the sink. The water from the refrigerator was cold and that caused a mild version of an ice cream headache; which in turn caused him to drop the now empty water bottle in the sink as he grabbed his forehead in both hands and leaned over the sink waiting for the pain to subside.

The water helped his parched throat and dry mouth, but didn't do much for his throbbing head. He remembered seeing the aspirin on the coffee table and after taking a moment to steady himself Charlie grabbed the second bottle of water and walked back out to the couch, twisting the cap to open it. Prying open the aspirin, Charlie popped three pills in his mouth and drank some water a little more carefully. He had to admit that the water seemed to go down well and it really did make him feel a little better. Opening the note while he drank the water Charlie read.

_Hey Buddy,  
I left stuff in the bathroom for you. Call me when you get up. I'll come get you so we can get your car.  
Don_

Nearly 34 ounces of water had a quick effect on the young man and he made his way to the bathroom. Don had indeed laid out fresh towels for him and had even placed a brand new toothbrush still in the package on top of the towels. The water, aspirin, hot shower, and clean mouth did wonders for his hangover and half an hour later Charlie was feeling much more like himself. He called Don's cell because of the note his brother had left, but got the voice mail.

"Hey, Don. Thanks for everything. I'm gonna get a cab and go pick up my car and then head home. I need to talk to Amita. I'm still angry, but both you and Larry made good points. Come to the house tonight if you can and, Bro, - - really, thanks for taking care of me."

* * *

The Avis manager and the young woman who had both came in contact with Jitendra were able to identify him from the passport photographs that the FBI had. Don allowed the civilians to go home, but not without police protection. He had also contacted the agents tailing Amita and told them to stick to her like glue.

"Well, now we have a face to go on. I want to send copies of this to every law enforcement agency as well as all of the airports and train stations, Rogers you're on that. The name on the passport is Jitendra Pankajakshan and the name our guy used to rent the vehicles was Hatim Masood. We don't know which one of these names is an alias or if they both are. Both names have been submitted to Homeland Security as well as Interpol. Rogers, as soon as the results come back coordinate with me or with Officer Clement." Turning to look at Mariette he continued, "I assume you will want to interview theRamanujans ?"

Mariette nodded appreciatively and said, "Yes, I would, actually. Can you contact your agents at the hotel to see if they are still there, and if so have them ask the Ramanujans not to leave until we get there?"

"Benton, get that message and this photo out to Collins. Tell him to keep a look out for this guy, but not to show the picture to the Ramanujans. We are supplying resources and protection, but this is still PPD's show."

That comment got an approving nod from Martin Prigg, making Don wonder if the Ice Man was thawing out a bit. Turning back to Mariette, Don said, "May I suggest that we take Agent Reeves with us? She would be best for reading theRamanujans when they see the photo."

"I would appreciate that, Agent Eppes. Martin, can you coordinate coverage at the airports and train stations, also get some of these photos out to the Cal Sci campus? This guy could be hiding right under our noses. He has obviously spent some time on campus; let's see if anyone recognizes him."

Don pulled out his cell and dialed the house, wanting to speak to Amita. Alan answered and immediately asked about Charlie.

"Dad, Charlie is fine and sleeping it off on my couch. He was kind of upset last night."

Don could hear the sarcasm in his father's voice as he replied. "You don't say. Amita has gone to see her parents. She didn't fare so well last night either. I know that at the moment, I do not envy Sanjay Ramanujan."

"Okay, Dad. I'll catch up with her at the hotel. We now have a positive ID on her attacker and I want to speak with her about that."

Alan's surprise at the news was clear, as was his voice which Mariette could hear even though she stood a couple of feet away from Don.

"You have a positive ID? How'd you get that so fast, Don?"

"The killer went to the rental office looking for the clerk who took the return of the first van. They recognized him from one of the passport photos."

Don instantly regretted his choice of words as Alan's voice went up half an octave and getting loud enough that Prigg could hear it on the other side of the room, earning Don a disapproving glare.

"Killer? What do you mean the _killer_ was identified by a passport photo? Who has been killed?"

"Whoa, Dad, calm down. It could be that this guy is ready to flee the country and is simply tying up loose ends. We're on it, okay."

"Don, check with the agents watching Amita; I would think if that is the case, then she is the biggest lose end he has! And what about Charlie? The worry was so evident in Alan's voice that Don felt a tiny twinge himself.

"Dad, relax. We have two agents on Amita and one on her parents. Since they're all together they are perfectly safe. As for Charlie, our guy hasn't shown any interest in him other than to disapprove of who Amita was dating. I'm really not worried."

As Don said this, he felt a chill creep up his spine. The fact that the killer had his brother's office key, as well as a key to the house actually worried him quite a bit, but there was no tangible evidence that his father or brother were targets. Without any indication of a threat against them, he could not justify calling in two agents on a Sunday morning just to make himself feel better. Physically shaking his shoulders as if to ward off the chill Don tried to reassure his father… and himself.

"Just sit tight, Dad. We've already got PPD patrolling the neighborhood. The house is secure and no one knows where Charlie is. We've got Amita surrounded by Federal agents, and I'm heading over to the hotel myself in just a few minutes."

By the time Don wrapped up the conversation with his father, it was almost 10:30 and everyone had left for their respective assignments with the exception of Mariette who was gazing at him with a mixture of admiration and concern. "Is he going to be okay?"

"Yeah. Dad is just…" He was interrupted by his cell phone's ringtone before he could put it away. Rolling his eyes, he sighed despairingly and managed a weak smile as he glanced at his phone. "Hang on, I gotta take this."

* * *

Amita arrived at the Rosewood Hotel by 9:30 in the morning. She spoke with the two FBI agents assigned to protect her, bidding them to stay outside with the agent assigned to watch her parents. Agent Mercer would only agree to this stipulation if he and Agent Dyer first accompanied her to her parents' suite and checked the rooms first. Then and only then would they depart from the suite. Mercer would stay on the same floor able to see the door to the suite while Dyer would head back downstairs and outside with Agent Collins. Amita didn't much care for that plan but she had little choice in the matter.

She didn't know what she was going to say to her father, and the closer she got to their suite the more anxious she became. The necessity of armed federal agents arriving with her bolstered her courage and she used the few minutes it took for them to clear the rooms to gather her thoughts to the best of her ability. She loved her father with all of her heart and she could not figure out how he could have said such a thing about Charlie. It was only four words, but those four words changed her entire perspective of her world, of her life and of her upbringing but most importantly of her father. She had always felt that her parents were enlightened and open-minded people even though they were also deeply traditional. Her father's comment shattered that belief nearly beyond repair. Amita missed her parents deeply after they moved back to India but she had resolved to herself that she was willing to choose Charlie over them if she was forced to make a choice between them. It was this knowledge that made her feel as though she were facing a firing squad with her relationship to her parents as the intrepid prisoner about to be executed.

Amita still did not know what she would say to her father as they stood staring at each other from across the large living area. The agents had left and her mother had taken a seat on the plush sofa off to the side watching with a nervous expression on her face. Amita cast her eyes around the room still not quite ready to speak to her father. The federal government had provided a beautiful suite for her parents. This was far nicer than they would have chosen for themselves. The fine plush maroon carpet and mahogany furniture is something one would expect in the rooms of visiting dignitaries. The view out the the tenth story floor to ceiling windows was spectacular and that was where the young woman's gaze now fell.

This had gone on long enough. Amita had nearly lost the man she loved a scant two months ago. She took a deep breath, turned her eyes to her father's face and without preamble began. "How could you say that, Bapa? How could you feel that?"

The accusation was in her eyes as a tear escaped her control, but her voice remained even, calm and almost as graceful as her mother's. Sanjay held his hands apart in an open embrace inviting her to come to him, but Amita stood where she was.

"I love him. That will not change and you must accept that."

"You do not dictate to me what I must accept."

The fierce glare in his daughter's eyes was all it took for Sanjay to realize that this was not going to work. He and Tapti had raised Amita to think for herself and he must now accept that she had done just exactly that.

"Bitiya, I am very sorry to have hurt you. You are a grown woman who has the strength and ability to make her own decisions. Your mother and I only worry for you, here alone."

"I'm not alone!" Amita shouted, her anger surfacing now. "I have a whole network of friends and family - of people who love me. Many of them were at the barbecue yesterday. They all heard what you said. It was humiliating."

This time the accusation was in her voice as well. Amita turned on her heel and paced past her father to the window looking out.

"I am so very sorry, Bitiya. The comment came out badly and was not meant for the ears of all those people."

Amita spun around so quickly that she nearly lost her balance. "Apparently it was not meant for my ears either! I never knew that you were a bigot! I am ashamed. How could you raise me and I don't know this about you? How can you object to MY choice because of his heritage? How can you, the man I have always looked up to, single-handedly destroy all my assumptions about the world I grew up in?"

"Amita!" Tapti had stood up and joined the argument. This was her husband and Amita's father that she was speaking to after all. "You will show your father respect. You did not hear the entire conversation and are unaware of the reason behind what was said. You have taken four words out of context and assigned an erroneous meaning to them."

"Erroneous meaning?" Amita looked at her mother with steel in her eye and an almost regal stance. She repeated the words enunciating each word carefully. "But - he's - a - Jew' -- what meaning could those words have other than what I and everyone else has assumed?" At this point Amita was shouting.

Sanjay stepped between the women and was able to lay a gentle hand on both his wife's shoulder as well as his daughter's.

"Please let us sit down and talk. It is our fault that you have come to the wrong conclusion, Bitiya. You were not raised in India as your mother and I were. Having grown up in America there are many subtleties of your own culture that are foreign to you. The blame for that rests fully on our shoulders. Amita, you and Charlie both deserve an explanation. The way my words came out was truly unfortunate AND it was not meant to be disrespectful to Charlie or his family. Please allow me to explain, Bitiya. I am your father; I deserve at least that much from you, child."

* * *

Jitendra went cold when he heard the old Jew say that he had been identified from a passport photo. The old man hadn't said who had identified him but he knew it must have been the manager or that female clerk from yesterday. He wished he had waited and killed them both after the office had closed, but that was now in the past. If they were close enough to get statements from them then they were close to finding him altogether. It was time to concede defeat and flee the country.

Jitendra quickly moved around the first floor of the small house gathering up his equipment and wiping down any surface he had touched. He did not want to have the oldKeffer's death tied to him when he returned someday to finish his task. Before he left he went down to the basement and retrieved the old man's body and brought it up to the living room. He held the body over the edge of the coffee table and let go allowing the old man to drop and crack his head on the edge. He placed the old man's cane on the floor raising one foot and sliding it underneath. After arranging the body it looked as though the old man had tripped over his own cane and fell breaking his neck on the coffee table. The stench was astounding but the scene looked fairly innocuous.

He moved over to the table to retrieve the receiver when he stopped at the sound of the Jew boyfriend entering the house.

_"Dad! Amita! Where is everyone?"_

_"Charlie, hold on I'm right here."_

_"The protection agents; where are they? Is Amita alright?"  
_  
_"Yes she's fine, Charlie she went to see her parents."_

_"Oh; did you talk to her this morning at all? Is she... How is she?"_

_"She had a rough night, Charlie, the same as you. Listen, I need to tell you something. The man who attacked her has been identified."_

_"Really, by whom?"_

_"I guess it was someone from the car rental place, but we should stay here until things are settled."_

_"No way, Dad. Not a chance. Look I'm still pretty angry but I think I need to give Mr. Ramanujan a chance to explain himself. I cannot fathom what he could have meant when he said what he said yesterday, but I know Amita and she is not a woman who was raised by a bigot. I do not accept that, so I'm going to the hotel."_

_"Charlie, wait! That man is still out there and he has killed someone now."_

_"What?"_

_"Yes, there was a clerk who took the returned van the day after Amita was attacked. Don thinks that he is tying up loose ends and is getting ready to leave the country."_

_"That puts Amita is danger. I'm NOT staying here!"_

_"Charlie, Amita is surrounded by federal agents, but you're not!"_

_"What are you talking about? This guy isn't interested in me! Dad, If Amita is surrounded by agents then I'm going to the safest place in town."_

_"At least call Don to let him know where you are. He is also going to see Amita."_

_"That's great because I need to talk to him too. I'll call you later, Dad."  
_  
Jitendra could hear the Jew's voice fading as he ran out the door and he felt his heart leap. He still had one opportunity to get his task accomplished. Allah had provided a way to punish the infidel even as everything crumbled around him. Jitendra left the receiver and darted for the door. He made it to the van and out of the driveway just as Charlie's blue Prius turned the corner at the end of the street, only this time he knew exactly where the young man was headed and he followed several car lengths behind.

TBC


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N - **Thanks to my betas for all their help and suggestions.  
Alice I

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

Amita reluctantly sat down on the sofa at her father's urging. Her mother sat on one side of her while her father sat on the other. This made the young woman feel conflicted. In one aspect she felt loved and cherished, surrounded by her parents; yet in another sense she felt that she had no escape. Her parents had taken up flanking positions while she had no retreat.

_'I've been spending too much time around the FBI.'_ Amita thought ruefully to herself.

Sanjay took his daughter's hand in his and waited for her to look up into his eyes. "Bitiya, I love you more than life itself. You know that, do you not?"

At her nod he continued. "I also have a deep commitment to our traditions. This commitment has not lessened over the years we lived in this country, but I can see that you did not grow up intrinsically understanding those customs. You, my daughter, are more American than Indian, and that is our doing."

Sanjay looked at his wife to include her in this conversation. Amita never let her mother get a word in before she spoke out, the anger beginning to flare up again.

"You regret how you raised me?"

Sanjay squeezed her hand while Tapti spoke. "Not at all, my Dear. Your father and I are very proud of you, of the woman that you have become. You have a mind of your own; you are respected in your own field of expertise. Your Chair even thinks highly enough of you to put you on a fast track for tenure. We could not be more pleased with how you were raised. We believe that we have done a good job, but most of the credit belongs to you, Amita. You have worked hard to become the woman you are."

Amita basked in the glow of her mother's praise but she shook herself mentally. This is not why she had come. She looked pointedly at her father before speaking in a firm tone.

"None of this explains why you said what you did."

"I did not have the advantage of growing up in America as you have, and am therefore limited by the traditional prejudices of my own heritage."

"When have you ever been prejudiced, Dad?"

Sanjay heaved a sigh, "I was born and raised in India. I therefore think like a native Indian. Traditionally a woman takes on the faith of her husband and raises her children in that faith. I have no quarrel with Charlie or his family, nor do I have an issue with his faith or his heritage. My concern was that if you were to marry him then our grandchildren would not be raised as we raised you. It was an automatic conclusion based on my experience, based on what I know is tradition, and finally based on my life's conditioning. If you choose to raise your children in the faith of their father that is naturally your choice, not ours."

Amita's eyes widened in shock at what her father had just said. She stood up and walked slowly to the window gazing out over the valley. She was so still that Sanjay began to get concerned and exchanged an uncertain look with his wife. Tapti was about to say something when Amita turned around and with an incredulous look on her face said, "Grandchildren!"

She came here to fight for the man that she loved, and to make her parents accept him regardless of what _they_ wanted. Now it seemed that her father already had her married to him with children, no less!

"Wait just one minute! What gives you the slightest notion that I would alter my own faith, or change my beliefs for Charlie or any other man? Charlie doesn't even observe the customs of his heritage. He doesn't practice Judaism! And even if he did, he would never expect me to abandon my own traditions and beliefs! He loves me for who I am, not who I would become IF we were to get married!"

"I know, Bitiya. Please try to understand that with our matchmaking discussion your mother and I were only thinking of your best interests. You are here in America without us or any close family. We made an assumption that was wrong. You have done very well for yourself."

Amita's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What matchmaking discussion are you referring to?"

Sanjay stood up but didn't approach his daughter.

"Your mother and I were discussing a suitable match for you; specifically Kapil Adalti, who has returned to Los Angeles."

Amita look stunned by what her father said and a slight smile began to turn up the corners of her mouth. It was the same look that his wife had on her face when Sanjay had first suggested Kapil; a look that suggested she knew something that he did not. Sanjay ignored the look preferring not to allow this conversation to go in that direction.

"During this conversation your mother pointed out that you had already made a choice. That is when I spoke the words that have caused all of this upset."

Sanjay stepped over to his daughter and rested his hands on her shoulders.

"Amita, daughter, you are our legacy, you are the jewel of our hearts and we only want you to be happy. Please believe that the harm my words caused was completely unintentional. It truly was a misunderstanding."

* * *

All traces of his hangover were gone now as Charlie headed for the Rosewood. He was more than a little nervous about not only speaking to Mr. Ramanujan, but Amita as well. He couldn't help berating himself.

_'Great move, Charlie. You run off yesterday leaving Amita to deal with the aftermath of the incident with her father as well all of the guests that had been invited to **my** home. How immature, how irresponsible can you get? I should have confronted Amita's father on the spot, or at the least set my anger aside until a more appropriate time. But - nooooo, Eppes, you had to storm out of there like some sort of dramatic adolescent leaving her holding the bag. Idiot!' _

The young mathematician was so preoccupied with his self-flagellation that he almost forgot to call Don. It was possible that the agent was already there and he needed time to talk to Amita and her father alone. He opened his phone and dialed Don's number while he waited for the Rosewood garage attendant to give him a ticket. Don's voice mail came on and he realized that his brother was most likely on the phone at the time he called but would get a beep indicating another call, so he left a message.

"Hey, Don, look I'm pulling into the garage at the Rosewood right now."

As he pulled into the parking garage he noticed that the lower levels were full. Because there was a door on each level into the hotel Charlie headed for the tenth floor of the ramp garage.

"Look I really appreciate what you said last night. I realize that I owe Amita an apology. It isn't her fault what her father said, and I just left her there to deal with everything."

The further Charlie drove up in the ramp garage the fewer cars he saw but he decided to go all the way up to ten anyway.

"Dad said that you had identified Amita's attacker..."

As he turned onto level ten he easily found a spot next to a tan suburban not particularly far from the hotel floor entrance. Working with Don for nearly five years had taught him some automatic responses to situations, and without consciously realizing it Charlie parked his car right in front of one of the garage surveillance cameras.

"...that's great news. Do you have him in custody yet?" Charlie continued as he turned off the car and opened the door. Stepping out of the car he continued.

"I know that you're on your way here, but if you could give me a couple of minutes with Amita and her father I'd appreciate it. I need to clear the air with both of them, especially since I plan on asking her to marry me tonight."

Charlie was reaching across the front seat to the passenger side as he spoke to grab his cane. While he did this Jitendra pulled up in the van and stopped the vehicle so that it was blocking Charlie's car and obstructing the view of the mathematician from the rest of the parking garage. Jitendra got out of his vehicle and stealthily approached Charlie just as he turned around, the phone still in his hand. Before the young man could say anything Jitendra punched him in the solar plexus with the force of a sledge hammer.

Charlie dropped the phone as he cartwheeled backward but it remained open and skidded just under the suburban on his right. His cane dropped to the ground rolling just under the Prius with the end sticking out. Charlie fell back against the opened car door and slid down to the ground, the wind knocked out of him. He looked at the face above him in shock until something in his mind clicked into place. The man had a nasty cut under his left eye and comprehension dawned. Jitendra saw this and smiled viciously down at his prey. He had waited for this moment and was going to relish it.

Charlie realized several things at once. This man was the one who had attacked Amita. This man was a cold blooded killer and had already murdered the clerk at the car rental place. Judging from the look in his eyes this man was going to kill him! And finally Charlie had been on the phone leaving a message with Don and had dropped the phone. It might have recorded the attack and Don would come to the rescue. There was little chance of that actually happening but Charlie's mind clung to that hope stubbornly.

At first Charlie had been so caught off guard that the realization that this was the man who had tried to kill Amita took more than a moment to sink in, but when it did it brought back the anger from the night of the attack. This anger pumped so much adrenaline into his system that he recovered from the blow to his chest more quickly than his attacker had expected. Jitendra saw the shock in Charlie's eyes turn to recognition, then fear and then, to his utter surprise, rage. He could see that the young man was about to raise an alarm or at least begin to fight back. Drawing attention now, when he was so close to his goal would be disastrous so Jitendra dropped to one knee and began pummeling the mathematician with his fists as fast and hard as he could.

Charlie tried to call out but the anger was quickly replaced with fear and the desire to breathe. Amita's attacker continued punching him hard in the chest and head eliciting groans of pain from the young man who quickly became disoriented and panicky. The beating seemed to go on forever as he tried to curl his body up in a ball to protect himself. At some point Charlie was pretty sure that the man stood up and began kicking him because he felt his ribs crack under the onslaught making it even harder to breathe or call out. His head was spinning from being hit multiple times, and his vision was blurry as his right eye began to swell up. At that point all Charlie could do was to draw his knees up closer to his chest and cover his head and face with his arms.

Then, abruptly, the beating stopped. Charlie had no idea how long he lay there on his side curled up in a fetal position before he heard a car door slam. He could hardly move and hoped that the sound was his brother or someone else coming to the rescue. He felt his left arm being pulled roughly away from his head and then being rolled onto his back. Time seemed to slow down. Sounds didn't make much of sense. There was a voice but he couldn't make out what that voice was saying. That was when a sharp searing pain pierced his semi-conscience mind. Something was wrong with his left arm. The voice was back only this time it wasn't speaking, it was screaming.

The pain served to bring Charlie out of the fog and sharpen his senses. With his consciousness restored Charlie was able to focus on his attacker again. The man was holding a long metal rod; something on the end of it seemed to be shaped like a V. Was that rod what caused the pain in his arm? Charlie looked down and saw that his left forearm was covered in blood which turned his stomach somewhat and made his head swim. He groaned in pain and nausea. Charlie looked back at the man who was now sitting on top of him holding the metal rod. Once again comprehension dawned when the man took a hand-held butane torch and began heating the V shape at the end of the rod until it was red hot.

The color of the branding iron brought back the memory of this man standing over Amita ready to set her on fire. The anger came thundering back into Charlie with such force that it took his breath away. The man set the torch down and grabbed hold of Charlie's hair to hold his head down. As he brought the hot iron closer to Charlie's forehead he saw the young man's eyes harden with intense hatred.

"You will be marked as a soover who defiled a virgin. All will see your shame."

Charlie could see that his attacker was holding the iron near the handle approximately two thirds of the way down the shaft from the smoldering end. Of their own accord numbers flashed through the back of his mind. With no real conscious thought Charlie calculated the distance between the end of the iron and his face was two point three meters, with an angle of one hundred fifteen degrees. Without his eyes ever leaving his attacker's, Charlie waited for the right moment. He reached up and grabbed the very far end of the handle as he spit out, "Mark this!"

Charlie yanked down on the handle causing the iron to pivot in the man's grip and come up burning the right side of his face with a sizzling sound. The man bellowed in pain and anger as he staggered up and off of Charlie dropping the iron in the process. The heated metal fell against Charlie's leg burning a hole through his jeans and searing the flesh underneath causing him to scream again with a fresh wave of pain before the young man could kick the tool away.

Jitendra saw the cane poking out from under Charlie's car and grabbed it. He realized that this was the same cane that broke his nose and he raised it above his head to smash it down on Charlie's head. Charlie saw what was about to happen and he quickly rolled to his right side while covering his head with his arms. The cane came down hard on the concrete floor breaking a chunk off of the polished handle. Jitendra adjusted his momentum now swinging the cane like a golf club and connected with the back of Charlie's head.

He raised the cane again determined to smash a hole in Charlie's head when he heard the sound of squealing tires. The rage that was clouding his thoughts dissipated with the fear of being caught. He dropped the cane and ran back to the van quickly pulling away from Charlie's car to the other side of the garage and into the lane that headed down toward the exit.

* * *

Don was on the phone with his contact at Homeland Security while he and Mariette drove to the Rosewood with Megan and Colby in the vehicle behind them. According to his contact at DHS, the pseudonym Hatim Masood, although not notorious, was known in the intelligence community. The name had recently made it onto the MI-5 terrorist watch-list, but before a detailed threat assessment was established, Masood had vanished from their radar. Israeli intelligence listed the man as a rogue terrorist, having abandoned his Abu Nidel faction. However, there had been no sign of Masood or his cell for months and his current whereabouts were unknown.

This made no sense to Don. What would a terrorist have to do with Amita or her family? Why would he even know about her or who she was dating? This raised more questions than it answered and made Sanjay Ramanujan even more suspect in his mind. He was explaining what he found out to Mariette when his phone beeped at him telling him that a message had been left. He automatically dialed into his voice mail as Mariette pondered this new perplexing information.

"Just because the alias of an Abu Nidel terrorist is the same as an alias of our perp doesn't make him the same man. It really doesn't make sense that a terrorist group would be interested in Professor Ramanujan."

The message was from Charlie which made something occur to Don. "What if Charlie is the connection? He has top security clearance. Maybe Abu Nidel found out about him and then about Amita being his girl..." Don's voice trailed off as he went white.

Before Mariette realized what was happening Don had flipped on the siren and floored the gas pedal. Colby and Megan followed suit as they trailed the lead vehicle.

"Don, what is it?"

Don needed both hands to navigate at the speed he was driving so he replayed the message from the beginning and put it on speaker.

_'Hey, Don, look I'm pulling into the garage at the Rosewood right now.'_

They could hear the garage attendant speak to Charlie as he handed him a parking pass.

_'Look I really appreciate what you said last night. I realize that I owe Amita an apology. It isn't her fault what her father said, and I just left her there to deal with everything.'_

The sound of Charlie driving through the garage was distinctive, wheels screeching as he took the curves too quickly. His little brother had always been a lead foot.

_'Dad said that you had identified Amita's attacker...'  
_  
The sound of the engine idling down told Don that Charlie was parking his car.

_'...that's great news. Do you have him in custody yet?'  
_  
They could now hear the engine cut out and the door open. Charlie's voice became slightly strained as though he were reaching into the car for something.

_'I know that you're on your way here, but if you could give me a couple of minutes with Amita and her father I'd appreciate it. I need to clear the air with both of them, especially since I plan on asking her to marry me tonight.'_

Mariette looked at Don confused. Thus far this call was a reason to be pleased, not frightened to death and speeding your way through the traffic that always seemed to exist in LA even on a Sunday morning. The confusion deepened at the next sound. They heard a thud and a clattering sound as though the phone had been dropped. This was followed by more thudding sounds as well as what frightened Don initially. The very distinct sound of someone gasping for air.

Mariette no longer looked confused. Her face mirrored what Don's face looked like a few moments ago. Now the agent looked deadly as they listened to the sounds of his brother being beaten savagely. The blows that could be heard were accompanied by grunts of pain and at one point Mariette thought she heard Charlie plead "Stop, please!"

After what seemed like long minutes the sound of punches and kicks stopped. Ragged gasping could be heard in the background and then the sound of a car door slamming. They heard footsteps getting closer to where the phone lay and a moan from Charlie. The next part took both Don and Mariette by surprise for Don had not heard the message this far into it when he started it over. A man's voice snarled clearly.

_'I have a message for you, Kike! You have usurped another man's authority and defiled a woman to whom you have no claim. Amita Ramanujan is not for you. You should stick with your own kind.' _

They heard a metal clinking sound and Don realized with a chill that it was the sound of a switchblade being opened.

_'Here is a reminder of what you are.'_

The moaning grew louder. Don nearly drove into another car as his mind froze when he heard Charlie hitch in a breath and scream. Don's hands tightened on the steering wheel as he asked Mariette to call Megan.

"Tell her to get a message to Collins, Mercer or Dyer. Charlie's in the Rosewood parking garage and he's being attacked!"

Don knew that this had just happened because there was no message when he got the call from Homeland Security. He reached out and increased the volume as Charlie's screams faded to a groaning whimper. He heard a sound that didn't register at first. It sounded like a whooshing noise with a faint pop. There was relative silence as he listened, until he heard the attacker's voice again.

_'You will be marked as a soover who defiled a virgin. All will see your shame.'_

Don felt his heart leap to his throat as he heard his brother's voice come across the phone defiantly.

_'Mark this!'_

Charlie was fighting back, making Don's heart swell with pride. The sound of scrambling accompanied by a scream that didn't belong to Charlie almost made Don cheer, but then he heard his brother scream in pain again, along with the sound of something heavy and metallic skittering across the cement floor. Don fought hard to keep his anger in check because it was threatening to overwhelm him as he listened to Charlie being hurt. A scraping sound was the next thing he heard then there was a second of silence before he heard a sharp inhalation followed by a deafening sound of something solid hitting the floor of the garage with deadly force. The next thing that could be heard was the sound of a scrape and a sickening thud. Faintly in the background, Don heard the sound of tires squealing and then something clattered to the ground followed by the sound of retreating footsteps and a car driving quickly away.

Don's mind was stuck on the sound of that last thud. It was the sound of Charlie's head being crushed; he was sure of it. Mariette could see the color drain from Don's face and felt the car begin to slow down as his foot eased off the gas pedal and knew that he believed his brother was dead. She listened closely as the sound of a vehicle driving away died off in the distance. Now the only sound that could be heard was a faint ragged breathing.

"Don! Listen, Charlie's alive. You can hear him breathing."

Don turned his head and his attention to the phone and indeed for a moment he could hear rough wheezing breaths before the phone beeped signaling the end of the message or at least the end of space in Don's voice mailbox.

"We're five minutes out, Buddy, hang on; I'm coming."

Don didn't have to tell Mariette to call for an ambulance as she sat there frantically dialing.

TBC


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter Twenty Four**

Colby and Megan contacted Agents Collins, Dyer and Mercer within seconds of Don's call. Colby told Mercer who was in the hotel on the tenth floor to go into the Ramanujan's suite and stay there with them until further notice. Collins and Dyer were instructed to go immediately to the ramp garage entrance and exit to prevent anyone from leaving. Agent Collins parked his vehicle across the exit of the garage and approached the attendant.

"Has anyone left in the last few minutes?"

The attendant was about to launch into an objection of the way Agent Collins had blocked the exit but quickly shut up when he saw the FBI identification badge.

"Well? Has anyone left in the last few minutes?"

The attendant pulled a ticket from the drawer in front of him and handed it over to the agent.

"A blue van left a couple of minutes ago; actually you just missed him."

Collins immediately waved Dyer over who had parked in front of the entrance blocking it.

"What did this man look like?"

The attendant was flustered now and the serious tone the agent took made him nervous.

"I... I don't know. He was sort of dark-skinned, not a black fella, but not white either. He had a ball cap on and I couldn't really see his face very well."

Dyer had jogged over just in time to hear the description of a man with a ball cap leaving.

Collins motioned for Dyer to make the call. "Did he seem like he was in a hurry?"

"Not so that I really noticed, sir. What's this all about anyway?"

Collins tactically ignored the man's question. "Did you see which way the blue van went after it left?"

The man was becoming visibly upset now. "I'm sorry, sir, but I didn't pay him any mind after he drove off. I was too busy watching you two drive over here in a big hurry."

Collins and Dyer exchanged a look before Collins turned back to the garage attendant. "No one leaves this garage until we clear the place. Please turn the gate off and step over to my car. We are going to need to take a complete statement from you, sir."

Don's phone was still in the holder and set to speaker when it trilled loudly. Don pushed the answer button. "Eppes."

"Agent Eppes, a man who might fit the description of the assailant left here at the same time we got the call to block off the garage. The attendant didn't see what direction he went when he left because he was watching us as we approached. We now have the exit and entrance blocked."

Don shook his head in frustration. "Dyer, I want you to go into the garage and look for Charlie's blue Prius. Call me as soon as you find it."

After ending the call Don slammed his hand on the steering wheel. "That's not the first time this guy has literally slipped through our fingers. We missed him by seconds this time."

Mariette could understand his tension and said, "This time we only missed him by a few seconds, which means we are very close to finding him. I'll call Martin and tell him to have our people canvas the airports, train stations and bus terminals. We'll catch him, Don. I promise you that."

Don nodded and thought for a moment. Then he picked up his phone taking it off speaker, so as not to disturb Mariette's call and quickly dialed David, who had stayed behind to coordinate the team's intelligence.

"David, there is a possibility that this guy just left the Rosewood in a blue van. I want you to tap into the traffic cameras out in front of the Rosewood and see if you can follow him or better yet, get a license plate number."

Agent Dyer proceeded into the ramp garage looking for the blue Prius that belonged to Professor Charles Eppes. He had seen it often enough in the FBI garage and knew to look for the red and green Cal Sci faculty sticker on the rear window. When Megan Reeves called him he was parked next to Collins and talking to him so they got the message at the same time. She asked where Mercer was and had Colby handle that call. He knew that Dr. Eppes had been attacked but he didn't know any more than that.

As Dyer came around a corner off of the ninth floor he could make out a blue Prius on the right side of the garage not far past the door that led to the hotel. Not knowing what he would find, he proceeded slowly. When he was a car length away he saw the Cal Sci sticker and stopped his car, getting out quietly. He pulled his weapon and stepped around his open door keeping his gun pointed to the area between Dr. Eppes' car and a tan Bronco parked next to the Prius.

As he drew closer, he could see a discarded butane torch that had apparently rolled under the Prius and down the sloped surface of the garage floor. It had come to rest against one of the cement bumpers that separated the parking spaces from the walkway on the passenger side of Charlie's car.

He saw the end of what looked like a wooden cane that had not rolled down the floor because the rounded handle had been broken; a piece sheared off. The now relatively flat surface on one side of the handle and the rubber end prevented it from rolling. He also saw that the cane was covered in blood and that is when he felt a flutter in his gut and gripped his gun tighter.

He inched closer coming around the back side of the Prius and saw a bloody knife, a switchblade, on the floor near the rear door on the driver's side of Charlie's car. He saw a body there, but before he could check for a pulse he had to secure the scene. He looked between the cars and under the Suburban to make sure the perpetrator was not lurking nearby.

Underneath the Suburban, Dyer saw a long metal rod that still glowed slightly red at the end. The rod looked like some sort of branding iron, which would explain the butane torch. This made the agent's stomach do a little flip. He looked over at the spaces between and under the vehicles opposite the Prius and Suburban, and satisfied that there was no immediate danger he holstered his weapon and approached the prone figure.

Dr. Eppes was lying on his right side with his arms drawn up covering his head. There was blood on the floor right behind his head coming from a wound to the back of his skull. The left side of his face was covered in blood that looked like it had come from an injury to his left arm which was also covered in blood. Dyer could see that the young man was breathing but he remained motionless otherwise. Stepping carefully over to the mathematician, he checked for a pulse and found a good strong one which made him breathe a sigh of relief.

Dyer stepped back away from Dr. Eppes careful not to disturb the scene. He pulled out his phone and called Don to tell him that he had found Charlie alive but in need of immediate medical attention on the tenth floor of the ramp garage.

As soon as he hung up Dyer looked around realizing that the ambulance was already on its way because he could hear sirens in the distance. The EMTs would not care about preserving the crime scene so he used his phone to begin snapping pictures of Dr. Eppes, his vehicle and everything on the floor. He also noticed the video surveillance camera positioned high up on the wall between the two vehicles and took a picture of that.

He was just finishing up when he heard the squeal of tires. A vehicle was approaching at a high rate of speed and he knew that it was Agent Eppes. Three seconds after that thought occurred to Dyer, Don's black SUV peeled around the corner at the other end of the level and pulled up, coming to an abrupt halt directly behind Dyer's car. Colby pulled in behind Don making sure there was room for the ambulance to get by them.

Don was out of his vehicle as soon as it came to a stop and ran up to his brother's car. He stopped short when he saw Charlie lying there bloody and still.

"Oh, God, Charlie." Don seemed slightly hesitant to approach and Dyer mentioned that he had taken pictures of the entire scene. Don nodded his head in approval although he barely heard Dyer speaking. His entire focus was on the scene before him, every detail burning into his brain.

He approached Charlie carefully and knelt down. There was so much blood. He gently lifted Charlie's left arm off his face and head causing the injured man to groan and roll toward his back. Pure rage began to fill Don's heart as he looked down at the arm he held cradled in his hands and saw that it had been sliced open. A bloody Star of David marred the flesh of his brother's forearm. All thought stopped for a moment as he struggled to digest what he was seeing.

The agent in him snapped him out of his horrified stupor and he looked up at the agents surrounding him who all had the same horror-struck looks on their faces. Then his eyes moved to the various items on the floor, the tools that bastard had used to torture his baby brother and his voice became like ice.

"Get these things out of here and bagged for evidence before the ambulance gets here, and call Collins to direct the EMTs up to ten."

Colby pointed to the camera on the wall and said, "I can see about getting the video from that."

Don followed his gaze and nodded while the other agents began putting on gloves and bagging the various items on the floor. Don spoke to his brother trying to get him to respond in any way, but after that first groan Charlie made no sound. All of the evidence was collected very quickly and the ambulance arrived only moments after that.

The EMTs stepped in and unceremoniously removed the agent from their work space. They spoke quickly to each other as they assessed the damage using a lot of amorphous and slightly ominous terminology such as pneumothorax, dyspnea, deep lacerations, contusion, occipital fracture and hemotoma. At one point Don even thought he heard one of them say that Charlie had a third degree burn.

From almost any perspective Agent Don Eppes looked detached as he watched the medical personnel stabilize his brother for transport to the hospital, but his eyes told a completely different story. The SAC understood most of what was being said about Charlie's condition and those words held a different weight for him as his mind replayed the message that was recorded in his voice mail. The sickening thud at the end of the message translated to the skull fracture the medics were talking about. The lacerations translated to the Star of David carved into his brother's arm and the sounds of his screams.

By the time the medics had Charlie in the ambulance and were preparing to make their way to the exit Don's eyes were smoldering embers of rage. He watched the ambulance leave, following its path with his eyes until it drove around the corner and was out of sight. As he turned to face his team Megan said, "Don, go to the hospital; I'll call Alan and go talk to Amita and her family."

Don didn't need to raise his voice in order for his words to have the impact of a whip.

"No! She is with her father and I will deal with him myself."

Megan looked perplexed at this. She knew that Don had suspicions about Amita's father but this was no longer the behavior of someone who was only suspicious. She saw the look that Don exchanged with Officer Clement and knew that something was happening that she didn't understand.

Officer Clement spoke quietly but with emphasis. "You don't know it was _him_."

Don's voice was low and deadly. The rage made his words clipped and short yet he never raised his voice.

"Don't I? Who else would have "authority over Amita" and want a message like that delivered to Charlie? Who has openly made antisemitic remarks about him? Who would have ordered that symbol to be cut into his arm; his _left_ arm?"

Mariette understood that he had a valid point but she could also see that his objectivity was very much in question right now.

"It's not proof."

Don also knew that his temper was in danger of taking over, but he wasn't going to let that happen, not now, not when Charlie was counting on him to be in control.

"It's not direct proof, but it _is_ strong circumstantial evidence, and it's enough to make an arrest."

With that said he stalked off toward the door leading to the hotel. Megan started to follow him along with Mariette and Colby.

"What is this all about, what message?"

As they walked quickly to keep up with Don, Mariette filled them in.

"Charlie was leaving a message for Don when he was attacked. The entire attack is recorded on his voicemail. Charlie's attacker said that he had a message for Charlie to stay away from Amita. It sounded like the man was hired by someone who claimed authority over Amita."

Megan stopped dead in her tracks. "Her father! He's the only one who could claim that. She has no brothers or husband."

Colby and Megan gained a new understanding of how Don must be feeling. The shock of seeing Charlie lying there beaten half to death and cut to shreds had affected each of them deeply, but for Don to have heard it as well must have been far worse. Then an idea occurred to Colby.

"If we sync the voice mail message to the video feed on that camera we'll have a recording of this crime."

Don stopped short and turned to face the others. Colby thought for a moment that Don was going to bite his head off but he stopped and tossed his phone to Colby.

"Make that your top priority."

Colby caught the phone adeptly and left to find the security office. Don turned back and stepped up to the suite knocking sharply. After a moment Agent Mercer opened the door to allow them to enter. Amita and her parents were standing together over by the sofa and as soon as she saw who it was Amita rushed over to Don.

"Don, what's going on? Is he here? Did you catch him?"

She stopped when she saw that there was blood, a considerable amount of it, staining Don's white shirt and sleeves. The steely look of furious anger in his eyes made her feel a powerful jolt of fear. She stepped back out of his way as he walked past her and straight to her father.

"Sanjay Ramanujan, I am placing you under arrest for two counts of conspiracy to commit murder. Please turn around and place you hands on your head."

Don kept himself solidly in check. What he really wanted to do was to punch this man right in the mouth, but the last time he had done something like that he had knocked out a CIA agent who had stepped over the line. The fallout from that wasn't what deterred him now, it was the fact that if he hit this suspect the man could walk, and that wasn't going to happen.

At Don's words Amita shrieked, "What?!"

Tapti stood shocked into silence as she stared horrified between the imposing figures of her husband and Agent Eppes.

Sanjay narrowed his eyes angrily and asked in a clipped tone, "Who is it that I am supposed to have conspired to murder, Agent Eppes?"

Amita was almost hysterical at this point. "What are you talking about, Don? Who's blood is that?"

Tapti noticed the stains on the agent's shirt at her daughter's words and paled. Megan stepped up beside Amita hoping her presence would be a comfort to the young woman. Don didn't even acknowledge Amita's frantic questions; his entire focus was on Sanjay. The suspect had asked who he was accused of trying to have killed and as part of his rights Don had to answer him.

"You are being charged with conspiracy in the attempted murders of both Professors Amita Ramanujan and Charles Eppes. Place your hands on your head and turn around."

The command in Don's voice left no room for argument.

"No! Dad? What's he talking about? Charlie? Where's Charlie? Don, is that Charlie's blood?"

Amita was shaking and wobbled precariously on unsteady legs. Megan took her by the elbows and guided her to a chair before she fell. Tapti became furious with the situation and stepped between Sanjay and Don with anger snapping in her eyes.

"What evidence do you have of this outlandish accusation?"

Sanjay was was rocked to his core, and couldn't believe what had just been said, but he was not going to allow his wife to get caught up in whatever had prompted this. Placing his hands on her shoulders he gently pushed her aside and looked into her eyes.

"None of this is true. Contact Arnold Porter, he'll know someone who can represent me."

Sanjay turned back to Don and asked "Where will I be taken?"

Don knew that he would have a lawyer before they got out of the Rosewood Parking garage so he played this by the book.

"The nature of this latest attack qualifies as a hate crime and is therefore under Federal jurisdiction. You will be taken into custody and transported to the Federal Building for processing."

Sanjay paled at the words "hate crime" and he understood that the fury emanating from Agent Don Eppes was warranted. He numbly did as he was instructed and Don was careful to cuff him without being overly rough while reading him his Miranda rights.

* * *

_Thirty minutes earlier_

Jitendra pulled his ball cap down low over his face as he approached the exit to the ramp garage. He knew that he had to get out of LA and that it was only a matter of time before he would eventually get caught. The authorities had come very close to finding him several times. This thought was cemented in his mind when he heard the sound of vehicles approaching very quickly.

Two dark colored sedans, government vehicles he was sure, approached the parking garage at high speed. He had already paid his parking fee with cash and was headed toward the driveway that led out to West Vernon Avenue. The urge to step on the gas was almost over powering, but he breathed evenly in and out through his mouth while keeping an eye on the government vehicles out his rear view mirror as they positioned themselves to block the entrance and exit to the garage.

He turned right as soon as he got to the mouth of the driveway and merged as quickly and unobtrusively as possible into traffic. The adrenalin pumping through him was staggering and he fought with himself to keep from going over the speed limit.

The right side of his face burned with heat and pain from the branding iron and he felt an overpowering urge to stay in Los Angeles and finish the job, but the rational part of his mind told him to get out now. His face was known, his name was now known and the injuries on his face would make him conspicuous. That thought made the anger in his gut flare up again. He wanted to finish off this filthy Jew and his whole family, but he knew that would be utter folly. He had played his hand and unless he chose to die for this cause he was done here.

What direction to go was Jitendra's next concern. He knew that his name and picture would have been handed out to all of the airports and train stations. He considered using a bus, but quickly dismissed the idea of using any form of public transportation. He would have to drive out of Los Angeles so he headed toward the freeway.

TBC


	25. Chapter 25

A/N - I'm back to work now. _That_ was an adjustment after almost 3 months out. Thanks for sticking with me through everything. I'm glad that the story has managed to keep your interest. I did get a little sidetracked with a story that a few of us put together as a birthday gift for Serialgal. Take a few minutes (if you haven't already) to take a look at a story called Wilderness Adventure, and drop Serialgal a PM to say Happy Birthday.

Thanks and enjoy  
Alice I

**Chapter Twenty Five**

Don turned his handcuffed suspect over to Mercer, telling him to take Mr. Ramanujan to the federal building. There was no way that Don was going to give Ramanujan's lawyers any rope to hang him with, or to get their client released on a technicality.

He needed to tell his father what had happened and change out of the bloody shirt he had on, but he also wanted to go to the hospital to check on Charlie. Once Mr. Ramanujan was led out of the suite, he turned to Megan but he didn't get a chance to speak before Amita launched herself at him, the words flying out of her.

"How could you arrest my father? He would NEVER do anything to hurt me, or Charlie! How could you think that? Is this because of what he said yesterday? Because you don't understand! What's your evidence?"

She was crying and yelling at the same time, which made her voice sound eerily similar to the night she was strangled by the man Don now believed had been hired by Sanjay Ramanujan. The agent felt badly for her, but that didn't change what he knew. He took her upper arms gently but firmly in his hands and looked into her eyes.

"Amita, honey, you need to calm down. Right now, Charlie needs you. Megan will take you to the hospital. When he wakes up he'll want to see you."

His words had the effect he wanted. The mention of Charlie needing her brought her eyes to the blood on Don's clothing. Megan stepped up silently behind her and took her by the shoulders, guiding her away from Don to the door. Tapti Ramanujan was on the telephone, Don assumed, speaking to a lawyer. She glared at him with smoldering eyes, but said nothing. Don turned abruptly and walked out of the suite. Mariette followed him into the hallway, but he stopped when they were out of earshot of the room.

"I think you should stay with Mrs. Ramanujan. She needs to be questioned and I am not the appropriate person to do that. I'll have Dyer available to get you back to the federal building when you're ready."

"Where will you be?"

"I have to go talk to my dad. Then, I'm going to the hospital."

Mariette squared her shoulders and looked with determination at Don. She knew that what she was about to say would not be well received.

"Don, I understand why this case is now under federal jurisdiction, and I'm not arguing that point."

Don frowned at her and asked in an acidic tone, "...but?"

"You are the victim's brother. You know that it's a conflict of interest. You don't want to give anyone a loophole, do you?"

Don knew that she had a valid point and that was precisely why he had Mercer take Ramanujan to the federal building for processing. He would not conduct the interrogation either. He knew that his role from now on could only be supervisory in nature.

"Look, both Charlie and Amita are consultants for the Bureau. My entire team has a conflict of interest, but my team is also the violent crimes squad and this is their case now. I'm not stupid. I won't have any more direct involvement in this investigation. I don't want Ramanujan getting off on a technicality, but understand that my team will handle this case. I still want you and Prig in the loop on this. It did start out as your investigation, I'm not forgetting that."

Don looked down at his shirt and shook his head slightly.

Mariette saw a myriad of emotions playing across his face; fear, determination, vulnerability and underneath it all - a burning anger. She touched the back of his hand lightly and smiled. "He'll be okay."

The touch was so light that her fingertips barely brushed the skin on his hand, but the touch was electrifying and he felt a chill run down his spine. He turned toward the door that led out to the garage and walked swiftly away, wishing he had time to enjoy the sensations that this woman brought out in him.

With his hand still tingling slightly, Don had to pull his vehicle past the crime scene to turn around and leave. The blood on the floor; Charlie's blood, was a macabre reminder of the purpose for his visit to the hotel.

_'How can I think about Mariette while Charlie lies on a stretcher somewhere fighting for his life? Get it together Eppes, it's time to focus.'_ Don thought angrily to himself.

As Don drove to the Craftsman, he found himself actually working up the nerve to tell his father about what had happened. Charlie wasn't the one who was supposed to get hurt, that was outside his familial role. Charlie was the genius; he worked with chalk and blackboards, in schools and offices. He wasn't the one who was supposed to be exposed to danger; not the one the bad guys go after. Now Don had to explain to their father that someone had tried to kill his youngest son; that his bright star had been beaten, his body mutilated; and all, apparently, just because he was Jewish and had the audacity to fall in love with someone who wasn't.

Don's fears were realized as he spoke to Alan, telling him what had happened and why. The same hard anger that Don saw at the barbecue, and when he was a young boy, returned to his father's eyes. The drive to the hospital was spent in silence, each thinking their own thoughts. Upon their arrival, Alan saw Amita sitting in the waiting room. She was close to hysterical; sobbing, her face buried in her hands with Megan sitting next to her trying to comfort her. Alan was only interested in seeing Charlie, so Don used his badge to gain access to the treatment room where he was being tended.

Most of the blood had been wiped from Charlie's face and the blood-soaked bandage that had been applied by the emergency personnel was still in place, staining the sheets and pillow. At that moment, the doctor was cleaning the blood from his left forearm. Alan stopped dead in his tracks when he saw what had been done to his son. Seeing the Star of David literally carved into Charlie's flesh sent a wave of mixed emotions through the older man that was so powerful he had to turn and walk out immediately.

Don followed his father through the ER waiting area and out into the parking lot. "Dad! Where are you going?"

Alan stopped and turned to face his eldest. Don resisted the urge to step back when faced with the pure fury etched on his father's face. "You tell me, Don; you tell me that you have caught the person responsible for this."

Alan making the distinction between the person _responsible_ and the person who did this was not lost on Don. The hard look in his own eyes gave him away when he replied. "We've made an arrest, but no, Dad, we haven't caught the man who hurt Charlie."

Alan took only a moment to process that information before he took a deep breath and nodded to himself as if coming to some sort of conclusion. "You need to go and do your job. You find the bastard who carved up your brother. You compile the evidence to convict San... to convict the man responsible for these attacks. I'll stay here with your brother."

Don escorted his father back through the ER waiting room, still not stopping to speak to Amita, and arrived at the treatment room just as Charlie was being wheeled out. Don showed his identification to the doctor and he asked where Charlie was being taken.

The doctor, who had been cleaning Charlie's arm, extended his hand. "I'm Doctor Kloch. Mr. Eppes is being taken to radiology for a CT of his head, as well as multiple plain films. The CT scan can verify how much damage was done and if there is a serious bleeding issue. He has a fractured skull and a severe concussion, but the fact that he woke briefly and asked for his family is very encouraging. I believe he has some broken ribs; there are bruises and contusions all over his face, chest, and abdomen. He has a small third degree burn on his right thigh, but the most troubling injury is the fractured skull. We'll know more when we get the results of the CT scan."

"Doctor, what about the... what about his arm?" Alan asked with a quiver in his voice.

"The cuts are deep, but rather than stitches I will be using a new kind of skin epoxy. I am hoping that by using this product we can minimize the scarring. I've put in a call to the on-call plastic surgeon. I'll consult with him about what can be done for your son in that regard."

"Thank you, Doctor, we appreciate that." Alan replied almost absently.

"It is going to be a while before your son returns from radiology. Why don't you take a seat in the waiting room and I'll come and get you as soon as I have some more information."

Don needed this doctor to understand that this was no ordinary case and said, "Doctor, I will be posting an agent here in the ER with him. The man who attacked my brother is still at large."

Dr. Kloch called over one of the nurses to explain the situation while Don contacted Dyer to tell him to report to the hospital, but Dyer was way ahead of him.

"I'm already on my way. I should be there in five minutes."

Don told the nurse that his agent would be arriving and to escort him to wherever Charlie was. By the time Don finished up with the ER staff, Dyer had arrived and was coming into the main ER. Don knew he didn't need to say anything; a simple look told the agent not to let Charlie out of his sight and to let no one except hospital personnel and family near him. As Don walked out through the waiting room, he saw that his father had taken a seat next to Amita. They were quietly talking which made him breathe a sigh of relief.

As angry as he felt toward Sanjay Ramanujan, it wasn't his daughter's fault. The same man, apparently, had attacked her on orders from her father. Megan stepped over to him leaving Alan and Amita to themselves.

"How's Charlie?"

"He's in X-ray for a while. They won't know for sure how bad..." Don stopped and had to take a breath before continuing. "His skull is fractured, he has broken ribs, they've called a plastic surgeon for his arm."

Don seemed to deflate as he listed off his brother's injuries. Part of him was ready to indulge himself in hopelessness, but that wasn't his way. Megan could see her boss mentally shake himself.

"I need to get back to the office." At the nearly alarmed look on Megan's face he quickly added, "I'm not going to conduct the interrogation, don't worry. But I do want to coordinate the search. Megan, this guy is not gonna slip through our fingers, I won't let that happen. Ramanujan will give him up and if he doesn't we'll follow the money trail."

"Are you sure it really is Amita's father who ordered this? Couldn't this man be acting alone?"

Don looked over at Amita just as she raised her head and they locked eyes for a moment. She stared at him, tears rolling down her face. The betrayal conveyed in her expression was so clear that Don felt guilty for a moment, but his own resolve hardened as the voice of the man who beat Charlie came rushing back.

"Why would this man tell Charlie that he had a message for him if he was acting alone? Amita is young and single. She has no brothers or uncles. Who else would claim 'authority' over her? No, Megan, I'm sure that Amita's father is the one who's behind this. Look, she is gonna need all the support she can get. Stay with her okay?"

By the time Don got back to the office, Colby had gotten the video surveillance and the recording from Don's phone and had one of their tech guys sync up the two. The SAC stood in the war room, jaw clenched tight as he watched his brother pull into the parking space and get out of his car. The man who attacked him came up from behind Charlie silently. The fact that he was skilled in this form of attack was clearly evident to all of the agents watching.

Colby shot several surreptitious glances at his boss, wondering how he could so stoically watch the brutal attack without comment. When Charlie grabbed the branding iron and wound up burning his attacker, Colby didn't try to hide the fact that he wanted to see Don's reaction. There was clear satisfaction in Don's eyes when he witnessed Charlie turning the tables on his attacker; satisfaction that quickly turned to horror as he watched this man pick up Charlie's cane and try to smash his brother's head in. He viewed the entire video, even watching as the van drove off. He froze the recording and zoomed in on the back of the van as it pulled away.

"See if the tech guys can clean that up a little. It looks like a logo of some kind. My guess is that this will turn out to be from the rental place. Do we have a clearer shot of our man?"

Colby stepped forward and punched some buttons, and a picture from the video replaced the image of the back of the van on the screen. Don stared at this picture and saw that this was indeed the same man in the passport photograph with the addition of a cut under his left eye and a nasty burn in the shape of an inverted V on his right cheek. "That cut under the left eye proves that this is the same man who attacked Amita, linking the two attacks. Who's doing the interrogation?" Don asked.

Colby looked dubiously at his boss. He wasn't sure that Don should get involved with that; as a matter of fact, he was damned sure he shouldn't. "David is going to go in with Ramanujan in a few minutes."

"Good, I want to observe."

Colby nodded. He should have realized that Don wouldn't compromise the investigation and give Ramanujan a chance to slip away, but he admitted to himself that Don was a stronger man than he was. If his younger brother had been beaten and nearly killed, there was nothing on earth that could keep him from tearing the man responsible to shreds.

David hadn't gone in yet when Don stepped up to the monitoring station outside the interrogation room where Mr. Ramanujan sat with his lawyer. He held his hand up as he approached the screens. "I'm just going to observe. This is your show, David."

A '_show'_ was an understatement to describe the way David chose to conduct the interrogation. He walked into the room and without saying a word to either Ramanujan or his lawyer, he set about closing the far blinds of the room and erecting a white screen. He left the room, returned shortly with a video source, and pointed it at the screen.

David's actions, combined with his silence, drew confused looks from both of the men seated at the table. David then set a folder on the table just out of Ramanujan's reach, almost daring him to reach out and take it to view its contents. The first question that David asked took Ramanujan and his lawyer completely by surprise, as was evident on their faces.

"Who is responsible for Amita Ramanujan?"

Sanjay exchanged a confused look with his lawyer, who in turn addressed David. "I'm sorry; we don't quite understand your question, Agent...?"

"Sinclair, Agent David Sinclair. Let me rephrase my question. Who has authority for Amita Ramanujan?"

Sanjay's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "I am her father, if that is what you are getting at, but you already know that, Agent Sinclair. What is the purpose for your question?"

David had been fingering the file on the desk and picked it up. He looked at something within the file for a moment and then looked up pleasantly at Sanjay and his lawyer. "I am trying to establish who it is that would have 'authority' for Professor Ramanujan; or who could claim responsibility for her. I am unfamiliar with Indian tradition and this question is simply to establish her relationships with the people in her life appropriately."

Sanjay still didn't trust this man, this felt like a trap, but he nor his lawyer could find a reasonable objection to the question. At his nod, Sanjay answered.

"Amita has no husband or brothers. As her father, I would traditionally be considered to have authority or responsibility for her. However, you must understand that my daughter was not raised with the traditional customs of her heritage."

David looked slightly perplexed at that answer and asked innocently, "Isn't an arranged marriage the traditional custom in India? It was my understanding that you had arranged a marriage for her that she turned down."

"Agent Sinclair, my daughter was not raised with Hindu custom, but I was."

A look of triumph crossed David's face and he said, "I see, then perhaps you would be able to shed some light on what was said by the man in this video recording."

David pressed a button on the camera and the video of the attack on Charlie filled the screen. The picture was grainy enough that a clear identification would have been somewhat difficult without the enhanced copy of the image to look at. David had that image as well as the clear passport photograph, but the agent was more interested in watching the reaction of Sanjay Ramanujan as he saw what transpired in the recording.

To David's surprise, the true horror that was reflected on Ramanujan's face was in direct contrast to the circumstantial facts of the case. When Charlie's attacker delivered the message for Charlie, Sanjay's mouth fell open in shock, the disbelief apparent on his face. David had seen many a suspect put on a good act, and this one was worthy of an academy award. Sanjay even winced visibly when the man attacking Charlie picked up his cane and tried to crush his skull with it, and then connected with an audible thunk.

When the recording finished Sanjay looked green and utterly disturbed. "I understand now, why Agent Eppes was so angry, but I must assure you, Agent Sinclair, I know nothing about this. I had nothing to do with these attacks. I would never allow anyone to hurt my daughter, nor would I have someone brutally attack the man she is dating. I do not know why this man said what he did."

"We have identified the man in this surveillance footage, and he is the same person who attacked Amita." David pulled out the enhanced photograph taken from the video that showed the cut that Amita inflicted with her car keys. "The gash below the left eye was put there by your daughter."

Sanjay looked at the photograph carefully and David saw what looked like recognition in the man's eyes. He pulled out the clean passport photograph and laid it down next to the video image. This man goes by the names Hatime Masood and Jitendra Pankajakshan."

As soon as David said the second name, Sanjay's eyes opened wide and it was clear that he now knew exactly who was in that photograph. What David was not expecting was to see that recognition morph into outright rage. Sanjay looked up at David with a fierce glare. "I need to speak with my attorney privately."

"Who is this man, Mr. Ramanujan?" Grabbing onto the fact that the true identity of Charlie's attacker was within their grasp, David wasn't about to back down. "It is obvious that you know him. If you hired this man to scare some sense into your daughter and he went further than you intended for him to... that is not your fault. If you tell us who he is now, then we might be able to avoid charging you with attempted murder!"

Sitting up straight in his chair, Sanjay Ramanujan kept his chin high, giving David an icy stare. "I told you, I had nothing to do with any of this."

"But you do know him, don't you?" Although he was now inclined to believe that Sanjay was unaware of this man's intentions, David kept his voice steely. "Withholding information and lying to a federal agent is a crime too. Why would you want to protect him if you had nothing to do with this?"

Ramanujan's lawyer cleared his throat loudly, "Excuse me; I need to speak privately with my client."

Ramanujan looked up, glancing from his attorney to David. Knowing he had no choice but to grant the request, David tried one more time.

"Mr. Ramanujan, this man tried to kill your daughter. He assaulted your little girl, doused her with gasoline and tried to burn her alive! He nearly killed her boyfriend tonight, just a few hundred yards away from you and your family!" Lowering his tone, he asked, "How do you know that he accomplished his goal? What makes you think he's finished with her?"

A hint of fear settled heavily over the enraged expression on Ramanujan's face as David concluded, "You can stop this. Just tell us who he is. We can help you."

"Agent Sinclair," Sanjay sighed heavily as he continued. "Please, I need a moment with my attorney."

Nodding his head in resignation, David turned and stepped out of the interrogation room closing the door behind him.

Meeting his SAC in the next room, he asked, "What to you think, Don?"

"I think he knows more than he's willing to say about this Jitendra Pankajakshan."

Struck with an idea, Don pulled out his cell phone, dialing Mariett'e number as he spoke. "And if he knows who this man his, maybe his wife does too."

TBC


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter Twenty Six **

There was a sound that Charlie couldn't quite identify, but was somehow familiar. It conveyed a repetitious circular movement like a washing machine at the laundromat. There were voices, too. One voice, resonating with authority, told him to hold still. He obeyed that voice, knowing on some intrinsic level that he should trust it. A warm sensation rushed through his entire body, and he was sure he had just wet himself. But then, there was that voice of authority again telling him that he was going to feel exactly what he just had. His mouth tasted like nickel or possibly copper, definitely a metallic taste, that was once again somehow familiar but he couldn't quite remember why.

It was time to take stock of himself and try to figure out what was happening to him but nothing was clear. He was lying on his back and every inch of his being hurt, but his head was by far the worst. He had the sensation that his skull had filled up with mercury or some other form of heavy metal. The pressure was intense, as if that metal were rapidly expanding, giving his skull the sensation that it would explode in a million fragments at any moment. His vision was fuzzy and indistinct. There were lights in the room, but he couldn't see past a looming whitish colored object that seemed to be everywhere. Something flashed past his field of vision at regular intervals as if he was being encircled by some sort of large spinning object encased inside the large whitish thing that surrounded him. That description seemed so familiar, but the answer as to what it could possibly be eluded him. Whatever he was lying on was moving as well; in a lateral motion. He was moving deeper inside the circular object as it began to spin faster.

Time seemed to slow down and then speed up randomly. He was enclosed in the large object and then, without ever seeing or understanding how everything changed, he was moving along a corridor with lights flashing by above his head. The voices surrounding him all sounded distant and unfamiliar. Once again, without really knowing when it happened, his movement stopped and the lights over his head were not quite as bright as the ones he remembered as he was speeding down the corridor.

There was a steady beeping sound off to his left. It had an oddly comforting feel about it, as though it signified something very important. There was a whirring sound down near his feet and there were the sounds of people bustling around just outside of his line of vision. He heard many voices; some close by, some further away, but he recognized none of them and what he really wanted was a familiar voice to ease his fears.

As soon as he made that personal assessment of need, Charlie realized that he was afraid. He didn't really know why he was afraid, only that he was. Once he acknowledged the sensation, it grew in intensity. The fear began to choke off his ability to think rationally. The beeping sound was becoming faster. It seemed to keep pace and tempo with the tempest raging in his mind and heart. He heard loud voices and the sounds of feet rushing.

"You need to relax, Mr. Eppes. Everything is going to be all right. Just slow down a little. Relax your breathing, take slow deep breaths. Are you in pain now?"

This voice belonged to a woman who was standing over him. She wore a pale pink scrub top with pictures of the Pink Panther all over it. She smiled down at him and repeated her question. "How's the pain? Do you need something for it?"

"I need my family."

Charlie didn't even realize that he had spoken. The sound of his own voice was unfamiliar to him. The beeping slowed a little and he felt a strange warmth begin to seep through his body as the pain he felt everywhere became muted. It didn't go away, it just faded into the background somewhat. Time was doing its odd warp dance again as he looked up and saw a completely unfamiliar face staring down at him.

"How are you feeling, Charlie?"

Charlie tried to move his head so that he could look at his surroundings, but he only caused an intense searing pain that made his vision blur. He thought he knew what had happened and after a moment he opened his eyes slowly.

"My head hurts a lot."

Charlie could almost hear the smile in the man's voice when he answered, "I'm sure it does. Do you know where you are?"

"In a hospital... you're a doctor right?"

"Yes, my name is Doctor Kloch. I am one of the attending physicians in the ER department. Do you know why you are here?"

"It happened again, didn't it?" His last experience in the hospital came rushing back, and Charlie almost couldn't bring himself to say it aloud. "An aneurysm burst in my brain?"

Doctor Kloch frowned at that question. "Aneurysm? What are you talking about?"

Before Charlie could answer, the man turned to someone out of his field of vision. "I need a full medical background on Mr. Eppes. Please escort his family to my office. I'll join them there in a few minutes."

Charlie latched onto what the doctor had said about his family. "I need to see them… my family. Please let me see them."

The man turned back to Charlie and smiled warmly. "Of course, I'll bring them to you in just a few minutes. Now please tell me, what is the last thing you remember?"

For some reason the question made Charlie's blood run cold. The fear he had felt earlier reared its head again and the beeping off to his left increased in tempo. He didn't remember anything at all. He knew who he was. He knew who his family was. But other than that, he had no idea what day it was, or what had happened to land him in the emergency room of some hospital. This lack of knowledge only served to increase his fear to the point that he was starting to get a panicky feeling. He began to breathe more quickly as he wracked his brain for the answer to this question.

"I... I don't know. Why don't I know?"

* * *

Mariette had already finished her interview with Mrs. Ramanujan when Don had called. To say that she was surprised to learn that Mr. Ramanujan actually knew the man who attacked his daughter and Charlie was putting it mildly. Her surprise was quickly followed by anger, because she had always prided herself on being an excellent judge of character. Having spoken with Tapti, she was thoroughly convinced that neither she nor her husband was involved in these attacks or with the man who perpetrated them in any way. Now, it turned out that Mr. Ramanujan not only knew the attacker, but was unwilling to discuss what he knew or how.

She had been joined by Officer Prig and they were both sitting in a squad car outside the Rosewood when the call came in. Tapti Ramanujan had yet to leave the hotel, so both officers got out and headed to the lobby.

As they entered the front doors, they both spied Tapti Ramanujan getting off the elevator. They moved quickly to intercept.

"Mrs. Ramanujan, I have a few more questions for you." Mariette said, her eyes flashing.

Tapti saw the anger in the other woman's eyes and stopped. When they had parted nearly an hour ago, she was sure that the police officer was done with her questions and satisfied with her answers. The woman now stood before her with a hard set to her shoulders. But Tapti Ramanujan was not going to allow herself to be intimidated by this police officer. She had endured more than enough unfounded suspicion and she drew herself up to her full height before speaking.

"I am sorry, Officer Clement. Your questions will have to wait. I am going to the hospital to see my daughter."

Martin Prig had moved off to Mariette's left side, blocking easy access to the exit. He stood with his feet shoulder-width apart and his hand rested on his holster. Without saying a word his body language conveyed that Mrs. Ramanujan wasn't going anywhere.

Being impeded this way made Tapti bristle with irritation, but it also filled her with uncertainty. What reason could these police officers possibly use to justify apprehending her with force?

"I have answered your questions. I have cooperated fully with you people even though you have falsely accused my husband of atrocious acts, and now you are keeping me from going to see my daughter. What is it that you want, Officer Clement?"

"I want to know who Jitendra Pankajakshan is."

Mrs. Ramanujan's eyes opened wide in shocked recognition. "What does he have to do with this?" she demanded, in a voice that was as confused as the frown on her face.

"Who is he, Mrs. Ramanujan? It is clear that both you and your husband know this man. We need to know who and where he is."

The shock on Tapti's face was wearing off and she suddenly looked apprehensive. "Why are you asking me this? What has my husband said about Jitendra?" As she spoke the words a chill crept up her spine along with understanding. "Is he the one who attacked my daughter?"

Mariette watched Mrs. Ramanujan's face display a whole gambit of emotions from shock to surprise, suspicion to dawning comprehension and finally settling on rage.

"I will ask you this one more time Mrs. Ramanujan; who is Jitendra Pankajakshan?"

The older woman shook her head firmly and replied, "Take me to see my husband."

"Mrs. Ramanujan..."

Tapti's eyes flashed like fire. "No." Voice shaking with emotion, she turned toward the door determinedly. "I will not answer your question until I have spoken with my husband."

TBC


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter Twenty Seven**

Alan was escorted from the waiting area to Dr. Kloch's office by one of the ER nurses. Amita wanted to come as well but she wasn't allowed because of the HIPPA privacy law.

"I'm sorry dear, only immediate family are allowed in a physician consult. As soon as the doctor says it is alright I'll have someone escort you back to see your friend."

Amita really didn't have any choice so she took a seat next to Megan bristling at her exclusion. She couldn't believe what had transpired over the last twenty four hours. First her father seriously insulted Charlie, albeit unintentionally, causing him to storm out of the house and Alan to kick her parents out as well. Then she found out that the same man who attacked and tried to kill her also attacked Charlie and seriously injured him, and now her father had been arrested by the FBI for being involved with all of this. It was almost beyond her ability to comprehend. The emotional roller coaster that she had been on didn't show any sign of slowing and she was so very tired of everything.

"Megan? Amita?"

Both women looked up at the sound of Larry Fleinherdt's voice.

"Is this true, that Charlie has been attacked by this man?"

Amita got up and flung her arms around the physicist's neck and sobbed into his shoulder as he looked at Megan. The sadness in her eyes confirmed what he had heard and he patted Amita's back gently as he asked, "What happened? When? Where?"

Megan was about to answer Larry when her cell phone rang. She looked at the ID and saw that it was Don.

"Hang on, Larry, I have to get this." she said, as she pulled out the phone and answered it as she walked away from the two of them.

Amita stopped crying after a minute and she and Larry sat down as she pulled herself together.

"Charlie was coming to see me and, more importantly, my father at the Rosewood when he was attacked in the parking garage. Megan said that he was injured pretty badly and was unconscious when they found him. He was leaving a message on Don's cell phone when it happened so they have a recording of the whole thing. Megan said that it was the same man who hurt me. I guess they have a picture of him. I didn't know anything about it until..."

Amita had to stop for a moment. She didn't want to fall apart again.

"Don came into my parent's hotel suite... Oh, Larry, he had blood all over his shirt."

Again she stopped for a moment before she could continue. Larry didn't interrupt her or try to ask any questions. He was extremely worried about Charlie, but there was more to this than an attack on their friend and colleague. Something else was very very wrong with this situation.

"The man who hurt Charlie said something. I don't know what he said, but whatever it was led the FBI to believe that... that my father had something to do with these attacks."

"What?" Larry practically shouted. To say that he was shocked to hear of this development would have been a gross understatement.

"Larry, they arrested my father! He is being charged with complicity in the attempted murders of me and Charlie."

Larry's mouth dropped open and for a moment the normally loquacious man was rendered speechless. Megan returned to them before Larry could form any kind of reply to what he had just been told.

"Larry, I'm sorry but I have to go back to the office. Can you stay here with Amita?"

"Of course, but wait, do you really believe that Mr. Ramanujan had anything to do with the attack on his own daughter? Amita told me that he has been arrested."

"Larry, Amita, you know I can't talk to you about this. You have to understand that the decision was not made lightly or without just cause."

She turned her eyes to Amita understanding how terribly difficult all of this was for the young woman. The position in which she had found herself was more than almost anyone would be able to bear gracefully, and Amita was actually holding up better than most.

"At this point no one is saying that your father hired the man who attacked both of you, but both your parents know him and are so far unwilling to tell us who he is or how they are associated with him."

Amita turned pale and stared opened mouthed at Megan. "They know who attacked me, who attacked Charlie?"

"I'm afraid so. As soon as they heard his name they instantly recognised it and then refused to say anymore to anyone."

Amita shook her head refusing to believe what she was hearing. There must be some explanation.

"Megan, please what is this man's name? Who is it that my parent's won't talk about? Who attacked me?"

Megan was hesitant to say anything to Amita but when she asked who had attacked her Megan knew she had to answer. Amita had a right to know who the man was that had nearly killed her.

"His name is Jitendra Pankajakshan."

Megan watched a flood of emotion run across Amita's face not dissimilar to what Mariette had seen with her mother when she learned who this man was who had turned their lives upside down. Unlike both of her parents Amita did not keep her feelings behind closed lips.

"That filthy son of a bitch!"

Several people turned their heads toward Amita at her rather loud exclamation. Megan took her arm and drew her in close lowering her own voice.

"You know Jitendra Pankajakshan?"

Amita's face was flushed with anger but she kept her voice down.

"I have never met him, but he is obviously related to Aditi Pankajakshan, perhaps a brother."

Megan frowned and shook her head not seeing the connection. "And who is Aditi Pankajakshan?"

"That is the man my parents arranged for me to marry when I was a child. If my parents are not speaking to you, especially if it means that it will help my father's position then it could mean..."

Amita suddenly looked alarmed. "Megan I need to speak to my parents. Can you take me to see my father? Please this whole thing could get very ugly."

Megan would take Amita with her, but she needed to know what Amita meant by her statement. "What do you mean, 'this could get ugly', Amita?"

"My parents are very enlightened people, but they are also very traditional. I am their only child, and Aditi's family tried to effect an honor killing. This could turn into a caste blood feud. Megan if that happens then the violence will not stop until my entire family is dead. Please, I need to speak to my parents about this."

Amita turned back to Larry looking guilty and torn, her eyes begging him to understand. "You know I hate to leave without seeing Charlie, but I have to try to stop this from escalating."

Larry patted her shoulder saying, "No need to explain to me. Go. I'll smooth things over with Alan and Charlie if I need to."

Megan shot him a quick look. "Larry, Alan has quite a lot on his plate at the moment and doesn't need to be burdened with the details of our investigation."

Larry nodded in understanding and watched the two women leave wondering how life could have become so complicated in such a short time.

* * *

Megan contacted Don as soon as she left the hospital with the information about Jitendra Pankajakshan. This worked in his favor and he was quick to fill in David. Mrs. Ramanujan had been allowed to speak with her husband and his lawyer but David was about to put an end to this whole charade as he walked into the interrogation room. He turned toward the two-way mirror and gave a signal to turn on the recording equipment

"I am still conferring with my client Agent..."

David cut him off before he could finish his thought.

"You have had more than enough time to discuss the impending blood feud with the Pankajakshan family."

Tapti Ramanujan stood up from the table with fire in her eyes and stared at David haughtily. "How dare you..."

"Mrs. Ramanujan, I have not had you escorted out because this concerns you as well, but that could easily be arranged. Now please take a seat and listen to what I have to say."

Mrs. Ramanujan was clearly not pleased but she lowered herself into the chair next to her husband whose eyes had never left David throughout the exchange.

"We know that Jitendra Pankajakshan is related to Aditi Pankajakshan; most likely a younger brother. We know that you arranged a marriage between Amita and Aditi Pankajakshan when she was a child; a marriage that she later rejected. We know that it is not unusual for the members of a husband or would-be husband's family to seek retribution in the form of an honor killing when a marriage arrangement is rejected by a young woman." David watched the emotions play across the faces of the Ramanujans carefully as he spoke.

Tapti was still infuriated with the FBI for arresting her husband unjustly and she was not going to be bullied by this man who had no real knowledge of her country's heritage and traditions. "What makes you think that we would participate in an arcane practice of caste retribution, Agent?"

David was not going to be dissuaded by her objections which to his mind fell short of the facts. "What makes me think that, Mrs. Ramanujan, is the fact that when Amita was a child you arranged a marriage between her and Aditi Pankajakshan setting her up for caste retribution when as an adult she rejected her would-be suitor. Also the fact that both you and your husband stopped talking to us as soon as you heard the name Jitendra Pankajakshan; preferring instead to confer privately with your lawyer and each other."

The fire in Mrs. Ramanujan's eyes died out as David spoke. "You make a valid point, Agent..."

"Sinclair." her husband provided.

She nodded her thanks and turned back to David. "Agent Sinclair, we are guilty of many mistakes with regard to raising our daughter, as you will find is the case with all parents, but we would never allow anyone to hurt her. You must believe that."

David could clearly see the sincerity in the woman's eyes as well as her husband's. "At this point we are willing to entertain the theory that perhaps you did not have anything to do with the attack on Amita, but we still need to find this man and you are our best chance of being able to do that."

Again it was Tapti who spoke. "Why would you be willing to believe that we had nothing to do with our daughter's attack, but not that of Charlie Eppes?"

David was prepared to answer her but Sanjay spoke first. "When Jitendra attacked Charlie he told him that the beating was a message from me. That is why the FBI arrested me."

Tapti looked at her husband incredulously. She couldn't believe what she had just heard. "That is not possible. I know you did not... you would not..." She turned back to David and stated simply, "Jitendra Pankajakshan lied."

Sanjay squeezed his wife's hand, grateful that she had enough faith in him to see past the smoke and mirrors.

"Then help us to find him so that we can prove that, Mrs. Ramanujan."

Tapti and Sanjay looked at each other then back at David. Sanjay shook his head in frustration.

"I have no idea where he would be. I can contact his family in India and see if they know anything, but I seriously doubt that will do any good at this point. I swear to you, Agent Sinclair, that I had no idea that Jitendra Pankajakshan was even here in the United States until you showed me a passport photo that looked vaguely familiar and mentioned his name. Neither my wife nor I have seen Jitendra since he was about twelve years old."

David stepped out of the interrogation room to confer with Don. "What do you think, Don?"

Don shook his head and shrugged. "Honestly, David, I'm not sure you should even ask me. I'm too close to this to think objectively. For Amita's sake I want to believe them, but I'm not sure I do. All I keep hearing is what Pankajakshan said to Charlie. Why would he lie about that?"

"Possibly to throw us off, or to cast doubt on Mr. Ramanujan. If they wanted to dishonor Amita's family it seems to me that would be a good way to do it."

Don looked back at the couple in interrogation who were once again speaking quietly with their lawyer. "We'll hold him until the financial checks come back clear, then I guess we have nothing else to really hold him on. If we can't tie a payment from him to Pankajakshan, then it's one man's word against that of a murdering scumbag. Unfortunately that leaves us back at square one for finding Pankajakshan."

TBC


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N** - This chapter is pretty long - I supposed given all the PM's I got asking where the next post was you deserve a nice long one. I won't kid you guys, I'm struggling with this story. My muse has run away and I have lost focus, but as you can see I have not given up on it. Thanks for your patience.

Alice I

**Chapter Twenty Eight**

Alan stepped into Dr. Kloch's office near the rear of the emergency department. The man was sitting at his desk looking over some images on a computer screen. Alan didn't have to be a member of the health care field to recognize that the doctor was looking at CT images, presumably those of Charlie's head. This was all a little too familiar to him considering his son's recent aneurysm.

Dr. Kloch seemed to read his mind when he looked up and greeted Alan, motioning for him to take a seat before starting right in. "Charlie mentioned that he recently had an aneurysm in his brain. Can you tell me about that?"

Alan took a seat and told Dr. Kloch everything that had happened with Charlie over the last few months and about the surgery he had to repair the aneurysm.

Dr. Kloch took a few moments to talk to the ER registrar asking him to contact UCLA medical center to get copies of Charlie's records and diagnostic tests sent over. He also wanted to have a consultation with Doctor Xinfeng Shi. Given the information that Alan provided, Doctor Kloch also decided to order an MRI to check the surgical site and verify that no serious damage had occurred due to his most recent injuries.

After arranging for the medical consult and diagnostic tests, the ER doctor turned his attention back to Alan. "Your son suffered a skull fracture during the attack. That could have serious repercussions considering his recent brain surgery. We won't really know the extent of the impact of the skull fracture until an MRI can be done and I consult with Dr. Shi. Of his other injuries, I can tell you that none of them are life-threatening. I have paged the on-call plastic surgeon to discuss the injury to your son's left arm. He also has a third-degree burn on his right thigh. That appears to have been caused by a superheated piece of metal. It's small and treatable, but will also leave a scar. The images of his facial bones show an orbital fracture on the left that is non-displaced and I feel confident will heal nicely. He has four non-displaced rib fractures. They will make breathing a bit difficult for a few days, but should also heal nicely. He has contusions all over his back and sides, some in the shape of a boot. That combined with the absence of any of these injuries on his belly suggests that he curled up in a ball to protect himself. We did scan his abdomen and pelvis just to make sure there was no internal bleeding or organ damage and I am pleased to report that there wasn't. The skull fracture and its associated swelling really are the most devastating of his cumulative injuries."

Alan felt his stomach turn as the doctor began to describe Charlie's injures. As he provided the intricate details, particularly the depiction of the boot prints on his son's body, he could feel the blood draining from his face. Nevertheless, he remained silent as the doctor continued.

"The thing I want to discuss with you, and anyone else who will want to see him, is the fact that he doesn't seem to remember the attack. This isn't surprising because the skull fracture is back here." Doctor Kloch pointed to the back of his own skull. "The occipital region of the brain houses the memory and the impact trauma with its associated swelling would be expected to cause some short-term memory loss. The attack was brutal and carries its own emotional and mental trauma, so I believe it would be better to allow your son to remember the event on his own."

Alan frowned and pursed his lips. "I don't want to cause Charlie any more trauma. God knows he has been through enough, but I'm not sure how well that is going to work out with the FBI. They are going to need a statement from him about the attack. The man who did this still hasn't been apprehended and he has now committed two horrible acts of violence against our family. If he can't remember anything, I think the FBI might want to try and jog Charlie's memory. And to be honest, I'm not sure I disagree with that. I don't think that my son or his girlfriend will be safe until they catch this man, and they may need Charlie to tell them about the man who did this in order to apprehend him."

Dr. Kloch nodded his head. "I understand your concern for your son's safety, and I do not make light of that concern, but perhaps until the investigating officers or agents determine that jogging Charlie's memory is necessary let's proceed with the understanding that we want him to recover these memories on his own."

Alan nodded and said, "I'll talk with the agents and explain the situation. Can I see Charlie now? Oh, and his girlfriend is also out in the waiting room; if she could be allowed back, I'm sure that would boost his spirits."

Dr. Kloch stood up and stepped around his desk to hold open the door for Alan. "Let's go out and get Charlie's girlfriend and I'll walk you both back to his room."

When Alan and the ER doctor came out into the waiting area, Alan was happy to see Larry. He looked around, not seeing either Megan or Amita and frowned slightly. "Larry, I'm glad you could get here so quickly. I know Charlie will be happy to see you. Did the girls go to the ladies room?"

Larry looked uncomfortable shifting his weight from foot-to-foot as he answered. "Megan got a call and had to go."

"That's understandable; she told me that another agent was here watching over Charlie, but where did Amita go?"

Larry scratched his head and looked more unsettled than usual. "Well, you see that is the thing, Amita went with Megan."

Alan just shook his head frowning as though he had not understood what Larry had just communicated. "She left?" he asked incredulously.

"I believe it had something to do with her parents."

Alan scowled at this statement, which was not lost on Larry. It was apparent to the physicist that Alan Eppes knew more about what was going on than Megan realized, but he didn't comment. Instead he asked, "How is Charles?"

"We can go back and see him. He's been hurt very badly, Larry. He has a skull fracture and a severe concussion, but he doesn't remember being attacked. This is Doctor Kloch; he wants Charlie to find that memory on his own."

Larry and Alan turned and followed Dr. Kloch back into the emergency department, Larry still scratching his head. "How is this new head injury affecting his surgical site?"

Dr. Kloch looked back over his shoulder to answer Larry. "We don't know yet what the repercussions are, if any. Charlie will have an MRI to determine the extent of the impact and his neurologist is being contacted for a consultation. As it is, we may end up transferring him to UCLA."

When they arrived at Charlie's room, both men noted the presence of the FBI agent standing against the wall just inside the curtained room. Charlie was lying on the same stretcher that Alan had seen him on earlier but the linens had somehow been changed and the blood-soaked pillowcase and sheet had disappeared. He lay so still that Alan caught his breath for a second. His face was swollen and bruised to the point that if he had been awake, Alan was sure that he wouldn't have been able to see his son's right eye at all.

Larry stood looking at his friend in abject horror. Amita's attack had been brutal, but this was beyond anything the physicist had envisioned. Suddenly he no longer saw his long-time colleague and friend but someone small and vulnerable. It awakened an odd paternal sensation in him.

Dr. Kloch stepped up to the side of the stretcher and gently shook Charlie's shoulder. "Charlie? Can you wake up for me? Your family is here to see you."

It took a few moments to get a response from Charlie, which worried both Alan and Larry and they exchanged nervous glances before Charlie finally opened his eyes evoking an audible exhale from both men. Charlie looked up at the doctor with an unfocused and somewhat confused expression on his face. "Do you know where you are, Charlie?"

The young man tried to look around the room but moving his head caused too much pain, so he sufficed to look past the man standing in front of him to the monitor behind him. "I'm in the hospital. My head hurts..." Charlie mentally took stock of the rest of his body, which hurt almost as much as his head. "Did I... was there an accident?"

The doctor smiled, but tacitly ignored the question. "Your father and a friend of yours are here to see you."

Charlie immediately forced himself to move his aching head, and the sight of his father and his best friend sent a wave of relief through him. Until that moment Charlie hadn't even realized that he was feeling tension over being surrounded by strangers. "Dad. Larry."

Dr. Kloch stepped back as the two men approached the stretcher. Alan moved up close to his son's head and gently touched the side of his face because it was one of the few spots that didn't have a bandage. "I'm here, Charlie, so is Larry."

Alan wanted to take Charlie's hand but he was standing on the left side of his stretcher and that arm was heavily bandaged from the knife wounds. He tentatively reached down to lightly grasp his son's fingers and was surprised at the strength that Charlie used to latch onto his father's hand.

"What happened? Where's Don? Where's Amita?"

Alan didn't know what to say to his son. He wasn't supposed to tell Charlie about the attack, Don was at the office interrogating Amita's father in connection with it and Amita herself had gone off with Megan because of her father's arrest in connection with the attack. Larry jumped in, saving Alan from having to make something up and have it sound convincing.

"Time changes nothing does it? You've always had so many questions, Charles. Don't worry, you'll see Don and Amita soon enough. We were the ones who got to come in to see you first. I knew you would find some way to avoid my string theory lecture. What you need to do now is to rest. I fully expect you to be present and accounted for when the next series is scheduled in two months - no excuses."

That earned a weak smile from Charlie, whose eyelids were already drifting shut. In another minute, he was out again. Dr. Kloch explained that this fading in and out of deep sleep was to be expected with such a serious head injury. As he spoke to Alan and Larry the ER registrar stepped into the room. "I have Dr. Shi on line three for you."

Dr. Kloch followed the man from the room, leaving Alan and Larry to stand vigil wondering what was happening - both with the doctor's consultation and with the investigation of this attack. Larry had seen a couple of chairs up against the nurses' station that ran the length of this section of the ER and pulled two of them into Charlie's cubicle. Agent Dyer had stepped outside the curtain to give them some privacy, while maintaining a close watch on his charge.

Larry spoke quietly to ensure that neither Charlie, if he were to rouse again, nor anyone passing by would overhear him. "Alan, I get the impression that you know more than you are letting on about all of this. Is that an erroneous assumption?"

"I know that Don has Sanjay Ramanujan in custody and is questioning him about hiring the man who did this. I know that the man who attacked Charlie is the same man who attacked Amita and that she is caught in the middle. As angry as I am about Sanjay Ramanujan, I feel terrible for that poor girl. She will have more than her share of emotional trauma if it turns out that her father did pay this man to attack both of them."

Larry nodded knowingly as Alan spoke, realizing that Megan had underestimated the elder Eppes resiliency under pressure. He was and always had been far more capable of dealing with the unique stressors that were part and parcel of his son's line of work than most people gave him credit for. He came to a decision then and would explain it to Megan later. "Alan, there is more to this than that."

Alan raised his eyebrows, shocked to realize that Larry actually may have been more informed than he was concerning this situation.

"Amita went with Megan when she found out the name of the man who attacked both her and Charles."

"The FBI knows who this man is?" Alan asked incredulously.

"Yes. But until Megan told Amita his name, they didn't realize what his relationship was to the Ramanujans. He is the brother of the man to whom Amita was betrothed in a pre-arranged marriage when she was a girl. Alan, Amita believes with all her heart that her father had nothing to do with these attacks. She thinks that this is a cultural retaliation for her refusal to marry this man. Apparently when Amita's parents heard this man's name they both stopped talking and Amita is fearful that a blood feud between their two families is about to erupt."

Alan sat back, shocked at what he had just learned. "A blood feud? Does that still happen? I thought that the Ramanujans were supposed to be enlightened!"

Alan's voice began to rise and Larry motioned him to calm down as he looked pointedly at Charlie to see if their conversation had disturbed the young man. Alan immediately regretted allowing his emotions to run away with him and also looked at his son, who remained blissfully unaware of anything around him as he slept.

"Amita pointed out that while her parents are indeed enlightened, they are also very traditional. We have to realize that they both grew up in India and even as little as forty years ago, India was a different place than it is today. These feuds are woven into the fabric of an ancient culture that may not be so easy to simply abandon, even for the enlightened."

* * *

Don was in the war room with David when he looked up and saw the Ramanujan's lawyer leaving the office and heading for the elevators. He and David exchanged a confused and somewhat alarmed look before both headed toward the interrogation room. Mr. and Mrs. Ramanujan were still seated at the table speaking quietly. Agent Robert McGuire was standing in the observation booth and Don approached him while pointing at the interrogation room. "Where did their lawyer go?"

"I don't know, Agent Eppes, he spoke with Mr. Ramanujan, gave him a piece of paper and when Mr. Ramanujan finished writing something on it he got up and left."

Don looked into the room, suspicion all over his face as he turned and headed toward the door. David caught him by the arm, "Don, wait. You are only supposed to take on a supervisory role here because of your involvement with Charlie."

Don shrugged off his junior agent's hand. "Look, David, this is still your ball game, but we need to know what that was all about. He'll talk to me."

"How do you know that?"

"Because he thinks he's innocent." Don didn't wait to hear any more of David's objections as he pushed through the door and entered the interrogation room. "Where is your lawyer, Mr. Ramanujan?"

Sanjay raised his head defiantly and replied almost haughtily, "That is none of your concern, Agent Eppes."

Don sat down across from the couple and looked straight into the older man's eyes. "Amita is on her way here. She chose to leave the hospital before she could see Charlie because she is worried about what you are going to do. She thinks that you will initiate a blood feud with the Pankajakshan family. Is that what your lawyer left to do?"

"I have done nothing wrong, Agent Eppes. Jitendra Pankajakshan attacked my daughter, my family and assaulted our honor. I have every right to take my grievance to his family. Our families used to be friends. If Aditi sees reason, he could order Jitendra to submit himself to the authorities."

Don sat back wide eyed. "You contacted Pankajakshan's family? Do you realize what you have done? Jitendra Pankajakshan is a known terrorist."

Sanjay paled at this and his haughty expression faded with shock. "That cannot be. I know this family. They are not terrorists."

Don stood up and slammed his hand on the table. "Hatim Masood is a pseudonym on the MI-5 terrorist watch list. Israeli intelligence has Jitendra Pankajakshan or Hatim Masood as a rogue terrorist with ties to the Abu Nidel faction. Under the Patriot Act, I can hold you for aiding in the escape of a known terrorist on US soil. You should NOT have contacted his family."

Sanjay sat back and for the first time Don could see fear creep into his expression, but that was quickly replaced with determined resolve. "I had no idea that Jitendra was on anyone's terrorist watch list. As I said to Agent Sinclair, neither my wife nor I have seen Jitendra since he was a boy."

Don did not believe that Sanjay was trying to help this fugitive escape, but he needed to impress upon him the seriousness of his actions. Sanjay carefully schooled his features and appeared composed on the surface, but Don could see a righteous fury burning behind his eyes. This would not end well for any of them if they didn't find Pankajakshan first. Colby poked his head into the interrogation room looking anxious. "Pankajakshan was spotted on traffic cameras. Our techs have been able to follow him with the system. He's on the 10, headed straight out of the city. He must know that we would have the airports and train stations covered. I think he's planning on driving out of the state."

They moved off into the war room, where Don indicated that the traffic surveillance was to be put on the plasma screen. "Where was he last seen?"

Colby pushed a button and images of the dark blue minivan came up. The first image was close to the freeway and had a clear shot of the driver through the windshield, confirming that they had the right vehicle. The van was caught on camera navigating heavy traffic near Monterey Park, again near West Covina, then at the junction of 71 in Pamona. The last image they had, the blue van was stuck in a traffic jam between the 15 and the 215 just outside of San Bernadino.

Don saw Megan escort Amita to the interrogation room and as soon as he caught her eye he waved her into the war room. "He's gonna be stuck in that traffic for awhile. Where else would he go if he decided to get off the 10?"

David shook his head "Nowhere unless he was planning on going through the San Bernadino National Forrest."

"Okay...yeah I see that. Contact the Palm Springs office and get a road block set up..." Don stopped for a moment as he pulled up a map of the area west of San Bernadino.

Megan stepped into the room and saw the surveillance. "Did we find him?"

Don pointed to an isolated section of the 10 that ran along the Joshua Tree National Park. "... here at Chiriaco Summit along the 10. Have them set up a road block there. He won't see it until he is almost on it. Have spotters block the freeway coming back after he passes the last exit at Vista del sur. We've got eyes in the sky out that far, right?"

David shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Don. We have several birds here but nothing out of the Palm Springs office."

"Damn, well get one of our birds ready to go. We may need air surveillance if this guy tries to make a break for it into the canyons and hills of the Joshua Tree."

Don turned to Megan. "How's Charlie?"

She shook her head and shrugged. "We never got to see him. Your father was taken back to talk with the doctor but that was just before Colby called me with the update." Megan glanced toward the interrogation room as she continued. "Amita wanted to stay but she's worried about a feud between her family and the Pankajakshans."

"Yeah, well, she may not be wrong about that. Sanjay Ramanujan had their lawyer contact the Pankajakshan family in India. I just hope they don't get a message to our boy before we can pick him up."

"Don, listen; there isn't anything you can do right now, not from here. Go to the hospital. Your dad is going to want to see you and so is Charlie."

Don knew she was right. A plan of action had been conceived and his people and the agents in Palm Springs were more than capable of doing their jobs. "David, you're running point on this. Keep me informed."

David stood just a little taller and nodded, "Will do, boss." Then he turned back to his work.

* * *

When Don arrived at the hospital, he spoke briefly with Dyer letting him know what was going on. "It's obvious that Pankajakshan is turning tail and running, so I need you to get back to the office. David is gonna need all the hands he can get."

As Dyer left, Don slipped into the room. Larry was not there but his father sat in a hard plastic chair next to Charlie's stretcher. Don was stunned to hear his father praying quietly. He had never heard him do that in all of the years they were growing up, not even when his mother was dying. Don didn't want to disturb the scene since it was clear that his father had not noticed his entrance through the curtain. After a moment, the older man seemed to sense a presence in the room with him and he looked up. Don was suddenly transported back in time when he saw the tears on his father's face. It was not Charlie lying in a hospital bed but his mother while his father sat beside her with tears in his eyes. Don stepped over to his father silently and sat down next to him. "Dad? Is it bad, is Charlie..."

The fear in Don's voice made Alan shake his head. "No, no its okay, Donnie. Charlie's gonna be okay. I hope he will anyway. He has a fractured skull and a severe concussion that could cause him problems because of the surgery he had. In a little while they are going to do an MRI to see if there was any damage to the surgical site."

"I've never heard you pray before, Dad. Not even when Mom was dying."

"Yes, well that was different. Son, I do have faith; I do believe in God. I don't go to Temple, but I'm not an atheist. When your mother was sick, I was so angry. I blamed God for her illness and I wasn't inclined to talk to Him. Charlie has been through so much and this attack... it could have killed him. It just felt like a good time to talk to God." Alan looked up at his eldest son with a serious expression. "Please tell me, Don, have you caught the man who did this?"

"Not yet, but we know where he is and where he's going. We're setting up a trap that he should walk right into if he isn't tipped off."

Alan's face grew hard. "Tipped off? How could that happen unless..." Alan looked away trying to bring his emotions under control. "Is it true that Amita's father had something to do with these attacks? Is he the one who may tip off your suspect?"

"No, and yes. Dad, listen, you need to relax and not jump to any conclusions. I no longer believe that Amita's parents had anything to do with the attacks, but Mr. Ramanujan made a critical mistake by having his lawyer contact the family of the man who attacked Amita and Charlie."

Alan nodded his understanding. "Yes, the blood feud between opposing families within the same caste." At Don's look of surprise he continued, "Larry told me what Amita said before she left."

"Amita left?"

Charlie's weak voice startled both men who immediately stood up at the side of the stretcher Charlie lay on.

"Hey, Buddy. How ya feelin'?"

Charlie raised his hand and Don took a hold of it. "Like a Mac truck hit me.... Did it?"

Alan stepped in before Don could say anything. "No, Charlie you weren't hit by a Mac truck. Larry went to get some coffee and he'll be back in a few minutes. Listen, son the doctor wanted me to tell you when you woke up that you are going to have an MRI. I know you're not crazy about that machine, but it's for the best."

"Why do I need an MRI? Did I have another aneurysm?"

"No, Charlie they don't think that is a problem. They just want to play it safe that's all. And look on the bright side, this means you can cancel your MRI for next month."

"Where's Amita?"

Charlie looked at Don for the answer, but Don glanced at his father sensing that he wasn't supposed to say something. "She's coming, Buddy. She'll be here soon."

Charlie grasped Don's hand tightly and looked up with frightened eyes. "I don't know what happened, but I know it was bad."

Looking down into his brother's face, Don nodded in silent affirmation.

Charlie's eyes closed for a moment, and just when they thought he was asleep again, he whispered, "Do you remember when we were kids and I was afraid of the dark?"

"Yeah, Buddy," Don answered, "I remember."

Whatever lucidity Charlie had started with was fading fast and he sounded like a frightened child as he continued. "I was scared. Bad dreams… monsters under the bed... bullies." Charlie paused, breathing heavily through his mouth as if he were trying to ward off a wave of nausea.

"Its okay, Charlie. I'm here." Don said, squeezing his hand.

Charlie's eyes sought out his brother's; desperately seeking the reassurance that he needed. "Monsters couldn't get me when I was in your room. It was safe. I was safe."

Don knew it was the concussion talking, but he understood what Charlie needed to hear. "I remember, Buddy. You don't have to worry. You're safe now. I won't let anything else happen to you."

"Don't go…" Charlie's voice faded out as he drifted back into sleep.

Don bent down and spoke right into Charlie's ear. "I won't let anything hurt you, Charlie. That's a big brother Don guarantee."

TBC


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter Twenty-Nine**

Amita didn't spare any pleasantries with her parents. As soon as the door closed to the interrogation room and Megan walked away back toward the bullpen, Amita stalked over to the table with a hard look in her eyes. "What are you planning to do?"

The tone of Amita's voice was accusatory. This was not something Sanjay appreciated and his displeasure showed clearly in his voice and manner. "I did not raise you to speak to me in that tone of voice, Bitiya."

Anger snapped in her eyes as she responded, not put out by her father's response at all. "No, Dad, you raised me to think for myself. When the FBI told you that the man who attacked me and Charlie was related to Aditi, why did you refuse to speak to them? They may think that you had something to do with these attacks but I know that you didn't, so why not help them?" Sanjay was about to say something when Amita held up her hand indicating that she wasn't done. "No, Dad, let me finish. If you stopped talking to the FBI even knowing that it would clear you of the charges brought against you, then I am left to conclude that you are planning on dealing with the Pankajakshan family yourself. Given your traditional nature I must therefore conclude that you plan to initiate a blood feud with them."

"The thought did cross my mind, but that is not your concern."

"Not my concern?" Amita shouted. "I am a member of this family. A feud most certainly concerns me! I am the one who was attacked not you!" Amita had never been this angry before and slapped her hand hard on the table. The sting of that contact made her wince and shake her hand. "Do you realize that I left the hospital before I even had a chance to see Charlie so that I could come here and stop you from doing anything foolish? Do you realize that the place I should be right now is with him, not here trying to stop you from doing something that could destroy this family?"

Sanjay looked at his daughter, stunned by her outburst and hurt by her words, but Tapti had heard enough. "Amita! We may have raised you to think for yourself, but we also raised you to show respect for your parents. You will sit down right now and stop shouting like a fish monger!" Amita sat down without further comment at the command in her mother's voice. "We contacted Arnold Porter who naturally came to our aide. We explained the situation to him and he has left to contact Aditi and his mother to tell them what Jitendra has done here. Amita, neither your father nor I desire to get involved with traditional retributions with the Pankajakshan family, but they were our friends at one time. Aditi is the head of the family now that his father has died. He would have the authority to tell Jitendra to turn himself over to the authorities."

Amita stared at her parents incredulously. "You must be joking. Mom, I saw the look in his eyes before he tried to burn me alive. Jitendra Pankajakshan has no intention of turning himself in regardless of who tells him to do so."

Tapti continued undaunted. "That may be so, but we have to try to find a peaceful resolution to this situation, before it gets out of control."

Amita's mouth dropped open at that. Her mother was a strong and intelligent woman, but this was ridiculous and it sounded like a load of bull. "A peaceful resolution? That is what you want? First Dad tells me that he has at least considered a blood feud, then you tell me that you think that a brutal murderer will turn himself in just because his brother tells him to, and now you are trying to say that you are looking for a peaceful resolution. Just how much of this do you expect me to believe?" Amita stood up and ran her hands through her hair in a gesture that was oddly reminiscent of both Charlie and Don. "Do you realize how contradictory that all sounds, not to mention utterly ludicrous?"

Amita began pacing trying to vent her anger and frustration as her mother stood gracefully from the table and walked around to embrace her daughter. "Amita, dear, this is a terrible situation that is true, but we believe that we can get Aditi to see reason and help us to safely bring his brother to justice. We are not prepared to believe that Jitendra is a terrorist."

Amita pushed back from her mother's embrace looking confused and more than a little angry. "What? Terrorist? Mom, what are you talking about and since when are you on a first name basis with the man who tried to kill me?"

Tapti stepped back feeling mixed emotions at the accusation in her daughter's eyes. Sanjay stood up and also stepped around the table to stand beside Tapti. "Amita, we refer to Jitendra by his name because we have known him since he was a child, even though we have not seen him since he was a very young man. The FBI thinks that he is a terrorist because his name is on an Israeli watch list, but we both find that hard to believe."

Amita stared incredulously at her parents. "I have heard enough! I can't believe that you are actually defending that animal! He tried to burn me alive! He nearly killed my boy friend! I shouldn't be here; I belong with Charlie. You two can sort this mess out yourselves." Amita shouted and walked out of the interrogation room ignoring the voices of her parents calling her back.

* * *

When Charlie was completely out again Alan explained to Don what Dr. Kloch had said about Charlie recalling the attack on his own. "How is that going to work with the FBI, don't you need a statement from him in order to help you catch this man?"

Don rubbed his face wearily. "Not really. We know where Pankajakshan is and we're setting up an ambush. With any luck he should be in custody within the next couple of hours."

"Well that _is_ good news!" Don and Alan turned at the sound of the physicist's voice. Larry entered the room carrying two hot cups of coffee and Don got up to allow him to take a seat. Larry shook his head as he handed one of the cups to Alan. "No, Don, don't get up. I actually have to leave in a few minutes. Did Amita make it into the office before you left?" Don nodded as Larry continued, hardly taking a breath. "And how is the situation with her and her parents?"

"If you're talking about the possible blood feud between the Ramanujans and the Pankajakshans, then I am not sure how to answer that question. I know that Sanjay Ramanujan had his lawyer contact Aditi Pankajakshan, presumably to order the younger brother to turn himself in, but I honestly believe it was more of a challenge than anything else."

Alan looked between his son and Larry with a confused frown on his face. "Who and what are you talking about?"

"Dad, Aditi Pankajakshan is the man that Amita was promised to when her parents arranged a marriage for her. Since the death of his father Aditi is now considered the head of his household and would presumably have authority over any younger siblings. The man who attacked both Amita and Charlie is Jitendra Pankajakshan, Aditi's younger brother. I am still not completely clear on the dynamics and don't know why Aditi would send a younger sibling to exact an archaic retribution on a woman who thwarted him, or _if_ he even did. Our concern is that when Pankajakshan is contacted he will try to get a message to Jitendra before we can apprehend him. In my experience blood is thicker than tradition. I can't really see Aditi turning on a brother although I don't really have anything to base that opinion on."

Larry nodded and took a sip of his coffee grimacing at the taste and shaking his head at what the hospital cafeteria passed off as fresh coffee. "I would imagine that you are basing your opinion on your own brotherly feelings. You have a younger brother whom you could not fathom turning against. That, of course, doesn't necessarily mean that the dynamic between these two brothers is the same as yours."

Don shook his head and smiled ruefully. "And that is precisely why I am considered too close to the investigation. My thoughts about this are colored by my feelings for Charlie."

Larry sipped his coffee again but decided to give it up as a bad experiment and set the cup on the small table against the wall. "Pardon me for asking, and please do not misunderstand the question, Don, but shouldn't you be at the office right now as the dragnet closes around Jitendra Pankajakshan?"

"There isn't really anything I can do, Larry. Pankajakshan is almost out to Palm Springs. It will be the agents from that office who stop him in a road block. I needed to come here and see how Charlie was doing."

Don didn't sound defensive at all which surprised Alan a little. He was pleased that Don had been able to set his emotions about this case aside and come to the hospital even as the manhunt came close to a conclusion. Alan nodded approvingly at his eldest son, who seemed to finally be finding some peace after a rough year.

As the afternoon progressed, Charlie wavered in and out of a state of confused semi-consciousness and every time he woke he asked about Amita. Alan was becoming very frustrated by the situation, which showed on his face. At one point he muttered under his breath. "I just can't believe that she left. When she was attacked there is no way Charlie would have left her side."

Don could understand his father's frustration but he also knew that Amita wouldn't have left if she didn't feel it was necessary. After speaking with her father, Don was convinced that she did the right thing. "Dad, do you blame Larry for having to leave a little while ago?" At the shake of his father's head Don continued. "Amita didn't want to go either..."

"No, Alan, I really didn't," Alan and Don turned toward the sound of Amita's voice. It was clear that she had been crying and the quiver in her voice was evidence enough that she had heard and understood Alan's comment. "I am so sorry that I left, and now I wish I hadn't." She stepped over to the side of the ER stretcher just as Charlie opened his eyes again.

"Amita. You're here."

She bent down and kissed him lightly on the cheek as fresh tears welled up. "I'm here now and I won't go anywhere, I promise you that. Just try to rest now."

Charlie's eyes closed and he slipped into a less fitful sleep as she held his hand tightly. Alan stepped up behind her and rested his hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, dear. It's just that he kept asking for you and... well I guess it's just been a really bad day."

"You have every right to be angry with me for leaving. It seems that my family has brought nothing but heartache and pain to your family. I don't know what to say to you, Alan, other than I'm sorry."

Alan squeezed her shoulder. "You have nothing to feel sorry about Amita. You are here now and a part of _this_ family."

* * *

David had the Palm Springs office on video conference as he coordinated the spotters and road block. He had authorized one of the LA helicopters to fly out and get a visual on the van. The copter kept to high altitude to keep out of sight and not be obvious to their quarry. The only real concern they had was for other drivers on the highway. If Pankajakshan felt trapped they were unsure what he might try. It was conceivable that he could cause some kind of accident and take another driver hostage, but there was little they could do about that until Colby came up with an idea.

"Why don't we have the local PD out at Palm Springs set up a sobriety checkpoint on the 10 before Vista Del Sur? They can tell each driver to exit at Vista Del Sur except of course Pankajakshan. As soon as he passes the checkpoint shut it down. If they run the checkpoint in two lanes with an appropriate delay they should be able to pull it off without Pankajakshan catching on."

David thought about Colby's suggestion for a moment while he looked over the road map of the 10 running through Palm Springs on the plasma screen. "It's possible, I'm just worried that he'll bolt as soon as he sees the road block."

Colby walked up to the screen and tracked back a little way on the map. "If they do it here between exits 143 and 144 he won't be able to bolt without making a U turn. I think he'll try to bluff his way through a road block rather than bring down a chase. How fast can they get a sign up just past the Jackson Street exit that says there is a sobriety checkpoint ahead?"

David made some calls and within fifteen minutes he had the Palm Springs Police Department dispatched to set up a checkpoint. Their chopper reported that Pankajakshan was just making it out of the traffic jam and should be reaching their location within the next hour depending on traffic. They didn't have much time to get Colby's plan set up but PSPD felt confident they would be able to pull everything together in plenty of time.

* * *

Shortly after Amita arrived Dr. Kloch entered with a technician. "Mr. Eppes, we have an opening to fit Charlie in for an MRI. I need you to go with him so that you can go over the history facts with the MRI tech, before they do the study. We do have his old studies for comparison and Dr. Shi is on his way here now."

Don stood up and stepped over to Amita but addressed his comment to his father. "Dad, you go with Charlie. Amita and I will get you some coffee and meet you back here in about an hour."

"Actually Charlie will not be coming back to this cubicle. When he is finished with his MRI he will be taken to the overnight care ward of the ER department. I'll show you where to go in just a moment. Until we see the MRI and consult with his neurologist I am not sure whether Charlie will be admitted to this hospital or transported to UCLA Medical Center."

Dr. Kloch had Alan follow the stretcher and Charlie over to the radiology department while he escorted Don and Amita to the new location and then pointed out the best way to get to the cafeteria and back. Once they arrived at the cafeteria and had their coffee Don led Amita over to a table away from most of the crowd. They sat in amiable silence for a time before Don reached out and took her hand. "How are you holding up?"

Amita looked up into Don's eyes and couldn't stop the flood of tears that began to fall. The past week had been the worst week of her life. Being attacked by Aditi's brother seemed so long ago even though it had been less than a week. Everything that had happened since that attack was like one more stone weighing her down until she felt as though she was being buried under a landslide of hatred, anger and misunderstanding. She understood completely why Alan had been angry with her and Don coming to her defense felt like a ray of hope that she wouldn't be buried for long. Alan forgiving her absence and calling her a member of his family gave her a sense of belonging when her own family was turned upside down by everything that had happened. She had an anchor and for that she was eternally grateful.

"I'll be fine. Just like your father said, it's been a bad day." A harsh half sob half laugh escaped her. "Heck, who am I kidding, it's been a bad week."

Amita wiped her face with the back of her hand wishing she wasn't such an emotional mess but accepting that that it was inevitable given the kind of week she had endured. "I don't know what to say about my parents, Don. What my father said yesterday at the barbecue was not meant the way it sounded. Neither one of them has a problem with your family being Jewish. It isn't you; it's them. My father wants me to be with an Indian man, he wants my children to be raised with his faith and in his culture. It is an old-fashioned belief that he can't help feeling because he grew up in India, not here."

Amita paused for a moment and took a sip from her coffee. Her tears were starting to dry up as she began to compartmentalize all of the feelings that had been bombarding her since yesterday afternoon. "Don, I just wanted to tell you that it meant a lot to hear you defend me to your father back there. I thought that maybe you were unsure about me after what has happened today."

Don frowned in confusion at that statement. "What do you mean, unsure about you?"

"Well, ever since I was attacked there has been a veiled threat to your family and now today it was made real. My father uttered what seemed like an anti-Semitic remark about Charlie in his own house. Then Charlie was attacked by the same man who hurt me. To make matters even worse you arrested my father because of some evidence you had that pointed to his culpability in the attacks. The anger in your face this morning at the hotel when you arrested my father was frightening and I couldn't help wondering if any of that anger might end up directed at me."

Don had not actually considered that Amita might be feeling insecure about everything that had transpired but it made complete sense. She had no idea that Don had suspected her father of being complicit in her attack before today. His emotional response to what her father had said yesterday and what Pankajakshan had said to Charlie made him furious and cemented in his mind his preconceived notions about Sanjay Ramanujan's innocence. "Amita, I'm so sorry that things turned out the way they have. Even when I thought your father had something to do with the attack on Charlie, I never felt differently toward you, but I suppose it is only reasonable given the circumstances for you to worry about that. I actually think that Charlie is damned lucky to have you. I will admit that I allowed myself to come to conclusions about your father based on other information that was pretty damaging about traditional practices in some parts of India. I guess I am guilty of a kind of bigotry in that respect and for that I apologize."

"You have no reason to apologize to me, Don. If anything I should be doing that. I am still very upset with my parents, but I'm worried about them too. They said something about Aditi's brother being on some Israeli terrorist watch list. How dangerous is this man?"

Don didn't want to talk to Amita about this because it was part of an ongoing case, one that he was not supposed to be directly involved with due to his conflict of interest, but she already knew most of it. "You father may have gotten himself into an awful lot of trouble when he had the Pankajakshan family contacted about Jitendra and what he has done here. Amita, please understand that I no longer believe that you father had anything to do with this man or his attacks on you and Charlie, but by contacting his family your father could be charged under the Patriot Act for aiding a known terrorist. The best thing that can happen for your father's sake is for us to bring in Jitendra Pankajakshan before anything else can happen."

TBC


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N - **No I didn't forget this story, I just lost my muse and desire to write for a while. Please enjoy chapter 30. I am currently working on chapter 31 and i will try not to let so much time pass in between posts. For those of you who are actually still reading this story that you for your patience.

I want to publicly thanks Fraidycat for consistently checking the on-line document that is this story and keeping up with beta reading it. Even if I only added a paragraph or two within a day the beta work on that addition had been done.

**Chapter Thirty**

Jitendra had begun to feel a little more relaxed, having chosen to drive out of Los Angeles rather than risk having his picture circulating around airports and train stations. The most direct route out of Los Angeles was straight into Arizona. The 10 would take him directly into Phoenix, where he could safely catch a flight back home. He got stuck in a traffic jam outside of San Bernadino that had every other driver cursing and swearing, but for him was a welcome respite - at first. As time wore on, though, Jitendra became more and more agitated, concerned that the FBI would find him stuck in this sea of vehicles like a sitting duck. When the traffic finally cleared he found himself, like many others, actually speeding to try and put the gridlock behind him, and he had to force himself to slow down. A speeding ticket could easily spell disaster for him at this point in the game. He was still close enough to Los Angeles that his picture could have been circulated to law enforcement in the area.

It didn't take long for him to set his anxieties aside as he passed into Palm Springs, and relish in his victory of a task well-done. He had sent a message to the Jew and and exacted retribution for his family's honor. It didn't matter that the family whose honor he was protecting had all but disowned him. It didn't matter that they were incapable of embracing the higher moral standard that he had discovered in the Muslim faith. They were still of his blood if not of his heart.

The traffic thinned out considerably as he passed through the Palm Springs area and he was feeling very relaxed until he saw a sign up ahead with the flashing words, 'Sobriety Check Point Ahead'. He had just passed the exit to 86 south and a mere five hundred yards further was the roadblock, making him fear that his luck had finally run out.

Jitendra briefly toyed with the idea of pulling a U-turn and trying to make a run for it but he took a deep breath and remained calm. If he tried to make a break for it he would undoubtedly be pursued as a drunk driver attempting to avoid detection. The fact that the westbound and eastbound lanes of the 10 were separated by a three foot high guardrail didn't help. In order to turn around he would have to drive west on the eastbound roadway. He was not familiar with the roads this far east of Los Angeles and he could easily find himself trapped, so he simply pulled his hat down lower over his face and made certain that he had easy access to the small pistol he had purchased illegally when he first arrived in the United States.

As he approached the roadblock he slowed to a stop to find a very large Palm Springs police officer indicating that he should roll down his window. "Is there a problem officer?" Jitendra asked in as nonchalant a voice as he could muster.

"May I see your driver's license and registration?" the officer replied without actually looking at him.

Jitendra reached over to the glove compartment and pulled out the rental papers on the van, deciding that at the next opportunity he would ditch the van and steal another vehicle. He knew that this van could be traced to him but there was no point in reacting now. He needed to get through this checkpoint undetected first. "The registration for the van is here in the rental paperwork, officer," Jitendra said as he handed over the requested documents.

The officer looked at the rental agreement and the license noting the two different names, both of which were given to his department by the FBI. "Mr. Pankajakshan, this rental agreement was signed by a Hatim Masood. Where is he?"

"That is my cousin, officer. The van is a rental because his car needed repair. I am borrowing it for the day to pick up my sister who lives here in Palm Springs."

The officer finally glanced up from the paperwork and took a good look at Jitendra. The fact that his heart was racing never showed in his face as he smiled at the large officer standing beside his vehicle. "Have you had anything to drink today, Mr. Masood?"

Jitendra knew that this man was trying to trip him up and allowed a small laugh to escape. "No officer, I'm Mr. Pankajakshan. Hatim is my cousin, and no sir, I have had nothing to drink. My religion forbids the consumption of any kind of alcohol."

The Palm Springs officer had to admit that the act this guy was putting on may well have fooled him if he wasn't privy to the fugitive's real identity. He handed the paperwork back to Jitendra. "Well, have a nice day sir, and drive carefully."

"Thank you officer, I will," Jitendra said with a genuine smile. He knew that he was home free, but he would still ditch the van where no one would find it for quite some time.

The vehicles that had been stopped before him had gotten so far ahead that the road in front of him was empty, which suited Jitendra perfectly. He took off the ball cap realizing how wet his hair had become from sweat, and decided to leave the window rolled down to allow the wind to blow his hair dry. The fresh breeze felt wonderful on his face and his mood soared. He had outsmarted the federal authorities as well as the local cops.

As he mentally congratulated himself, Jitendra never noticed the police cruiser sitting at the bottom of the last on-ramp to the highway, preventing traffic from getting on the 10. As soon as he had cleared the checkpoint, the large officer had radioed the other vehicle, telling him to turn his flashing lights off. If Jitendra had seen that the police were preventing vehicles from getting on the expressway he might have become suspicious, but as it was he never even looked toward the ramp, instead focusing on the wide empty road ahead of him.

***************************************

As Amita and Don walked back from the hospital cafeteria, Amita found herself reeling from the bomb that Don had dropped about her father possibly being charged under the Patriot Act. That was extremely serious, and she prayed that Jitendra would be safely apprehended as Don anticipated. Amita knew that her parents didn't think that the boy they had known could have become a terrorist but she didn't agree with their assessment of him. She saw his eyes through the ski mask when he attacked her and would never forget them for the rest of her life. His , or the feeling they evoked in her,eyes were cold and dark and filled with unspeakable malice. They were the eyes of an evil man and she believed that if Jitendra was on a terrorist watch list then he was indeed a terrorist.

Everything that had happened over the last couple of hours had her recalling the summer when she turned sixteen and had met Aditi for the first time. He was ten years her senior and had come to the states with his parents to meet her. Aditi's family was very traditional and they wished to discuss Amita's dowry and firm up the plans for the young couple's impending union. She remembered actually being excited to meet this man to whom she was promised, and there was a part of her that felt special, more grown up than her friends, because she was very literally engaged to be married. When she first saw Aditi and his parents she was intrigued by him. He was tall and handsome and even though she herself was Indian he seemed exotic and enthralling to the young woman. Her mother was obviously pleased with how he had grown up and she and her father welcomed the Pankajakshan family warmly.

Jitendra was just a child at that time and had naturally traveled with his family to America. Amita remembered the young boy; he was slight as she recalled, and quiet, almost brooding. Her recollection of him was less clear than that of Aditi, but she thought that even back then the twelve year old boy seemed terribly aloof or even angry. Amita had assumed that his disposition was a result of being flown halfway around the world just so his older brother could meet his future wife, but perhaps there was more to him even then.

Amita clearly remembered the walk along the beach that she had taken with Aditi after their arrival. Being a little nervous about spending time alone with Aditi for the first time, Amita took him to the beach, where several of her friends were playing a spirited game of volleyball, and convinced the stunning young man to join in on the game. In the heat of the summer day she soon shed her blouse, revealing her bikini top as she grew flushed with exertion from playing.

Aditi stopped playing immediately and cast a disapproving frown at her and her friends. Amita was confused by his reaction and became self-conscious, bowing out of the game and moving away from her friends as she put her shirt back on. The conversation that they had as they walked back to the car was still as clear in her mind now as it was that afternoon. "You're upset. What's wrong? I thought you were having fun playing volleyball."

The tall man walking beside her didn't answer for a moment. Then he stopped walking and looked at Amita, seeming to drink in the sight of her as his eyes perused every part of her from head to toe. His intense staring made her feel even more uncomfortable and she wrapped her arms around herself as she pulled her shirt closer around her middle.

"You are uncomfortable because of the way in which I look at you; like a wolf looks at his prey. You invite this kind of scrutiny with the provocative manner of your dress. I understand that you were raised in America and things are different here. I promise you I will be patient with you as you learn from my mother and my aunts how a proper woman should behave."

Amita's first instinct was to lash out at Aditi for being such an ass, but she didn't want to upset her parents, who had so much planned for the Pankajakshans' visit. She looked away from Aditi and walked silently back toward the car feeling angry, embarrassed, and even a little ashamed by his remarks, which caused her to grow even more angry with him as well as with herself. She knew she had nothing to be ashamed of, and if he was too ignorant to realize that, then it was his problem. By the end of that evening Amita had made her decision about Aditi, but found it very hard to broach the subject with her parents, who proceeded as though the arrangement was set in stone.

As she grew older she understood that she had made a mistake in not making her feelings known at the time of Aditi's visit. Her silence led both families to believe that she had accepted Aditi as her promised one, but at sixteen she was not self-confident enough to stand against the outspoken wishes of her parents. After the Pankajakshans flew back to India it was a simple matter to avoid the subject altogether, and truth be told, Amita liked the fact that if a guy that she didn't want attention from began to make advances toward her, she could always claim that she was engaged to be married. There was a certain safety in the cultural traditions of her heritage and she used that to her benefit. It only became a problem when the engagement was brought up as a topic of discussion by her parents.

Amita was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn't even realize she and Don had already made their way back to the overnight care ward in the ER. The small unit was comprised of a short hallway with four rooms and a nurses' station at the far end of the hall. The first room on the left was stripped down and the bed was out in the hallway up against the wall, while a maintenance man cleaned the room. The room on the opposite side of the hallway was occupied, with the door open only a crack. The second room on the right side of the hall, was open and empty, the bed made with the sheets pulled down, the name "Eppes" was written in dry erase marker on the small slat in the center top half of the door. Charlie had not yet returned from radiology, but knowing this was to be his room they entered and looked around.

The rooms were bigger than the curtained cubicles in the regular ER. There was a semi-comfortable looking recliner next to the bed and two cushioned chairs against the wall by the door, and while certainly much more comfortable than the regular ER, it still had a transitory feel to it. The vitals monitor was attached to the wall just above and to the left of the bed, the same wa the device would be mounted in the ER. The bed, while not an ER stretcher, was not a full-sized hospital bed either. The over-bed table was pushed off to the side and had a Styrofoam cup and a flimsy plastic water jug on it, rather than the sturdy kind of water pitcher seen in proper long-stay hospital rooms. Everything in this room had a disposable feel to it, as though the room could be taken down and changed very quickly, just like the first room across the hall had been.

Their wait in the room for Charlie wasn't long. Within only a few minutes of their arrival he was wheeled back from the x-ray department with Alan walking behind the stretcher. Charlie was awake and more alert than when they had seen him last, his face looked just as bad as before, his right eye still swollen nearly shut, but his left eye was open, and sought out Amita as soon as the stretcher was wheeled into the room.

Charlie was able to scoot over from the stretcher by himself, which everyone took as a very good sign. As soon as the stretcher was out of the room and the technicians had finished hooking him back up to the monitoring equipment, Amita moved to Charlie's side and kissed him tenderly, being careful not to exacerbate any of his injuries. As the young couple held each other Alan and Don stepped out into the hallway so that Alan could tell his eldest son what the MRI showed.

"The good news is the skull fracture and subsequent concussion have had little affect on his surgical site. Dr. Bill says that Charlie can stay here, but he'll come to check on his progress regularly. The doctor who will take over Charlie's care once he's admitted will keep Dr. Bill informed if anything happens."

Don looked back through the door at his brother and Amita. "What do you mean, 'once he's admitted'? If Dr. Bill is fine with him staying here instead of being transferred to UCLA, then why can't they do that now?"

"There are no available beds at the moment. They expect that to change sometime within the next twelve hours. That is the reason he has been moved to this room. It's a sort of a temporary hospital room until something in the main hospital opens up."

Don rubbed the back of his neck realizing how tired he was. "Man, I didn't realize how crowded it was here."

"Actually it's not just here. As smaller hospitals are closed down due to the failing economy, their caseloads have to go somewhere. These days if every bed isn't filled then the hospital considers itself running in the red. It's a matter of fiscal survival. The insurance companies are paying less for procedures and not covering longer stays, so the turnover has to be high in order for them to survive."

"Is it really that bad?"

"I'm afraid so, son. But this is a topic for another time. The good news is, Charlie is going to be all right. It may take some time, but he'll be fine."

Alan and Don moved back into the room and Charlie looked over at his older brother with determination shining in his visible eye. "Amita, why don't you and Dad go get some coffee. I want to talk to Don privately."

Shock registered on everyone's faces at Charlie's straightforward request, but Amita didn't fight it. She bent down and kissed Charlie lightly on the lips and left with Alan without another word. Charlie waited for them to walk down the hall before turning to Don.

"I remember, but I didn't want to say anything in front of Amita. It was her father, Don. He is the one behind these attacks. The man who did this to me, he had a message for me from her father. I know he is the same man who tried to burn Amita alive; the cut on his face was proof of that. I just can't believe that the man who raised her... God, Don how could a father do this to his child, his only child?!"

Charlie's voice raised in tempo with the beeping of the heart monitor until both were unreasonably high. Don sat down right next to his brother and placed a calming hand on his shoulder.

"Whoa, slow down there, Buddy. I know it looks bad for Amita's father but trust me, he didn't hire this guy. I thought the same thing when I heard what was said. Believe me it took every ounce of self control not to rip Sanjay Ramanujan's head off this morning, but it wasn't him. Pankajakshan just said that to throw a suspicious light on her father."

Charlie's heart rate began to slow as Don spoke but he shook his head in confusion, a move he immediately regretted as the world spun on its axis for a moment. "Hold on a minute. Who? What are you talking about? How did you know what this guy said to me?"

Charlie was not only confused, he was dizzy and his head was pounding. He wanted to continue this conversation but he couldn't hold his head up any longer as he lay back heavily against the pillows. He closed his eyes, willing the vertigo to dissipate along with the throbbing that not only pounded inside his skull, but also made hearing more difficult. When he opened his eyes again, a nurse was standing beside his bed putting some kind of medication into the IV bag.

"Okay, that should help with the nausea. How's the pain now?"

Charlie didn't remember saying anything to this woman about being nauseous but he was, and whatever the medication was, it did indeed help with it. It also gave him a buzzing sensation up and down his entire body which was not painful but oddly unpleasant. "My head still hurts but not as badly now, thank you."

The nurse spoke to Charlie but made sure to include Don in her gaze. "Mr. Eppes, you need to remain calm. Getting yourself all worked up will bring on more episodes like this one and that will do no one any good."

Don looked frightened and pale but he answered the nurse. "That won't be a problem. I'll make sure he stays calm."

After she left Charlie turned to Don. "What just happened?"

"You sort of fainted but at the same time you got sick to your stomach, probably from the concussion. You started retching, your face got all red and you grabbed your head and cried out in pain. Charlie, you have got to slow down and relax."

"I don't really remember that, but I can guarantee you that keeping things from me will not promote a feeling of calm. So please tell me what really happened... not with me just now. Who is this Pankajakshan guy you mentioned, and what has he got to do with Amita and her family?"

*****************************************

A few miles beyond the edge of Palm Springs, the terrain surrounding the highway became mountainous and reminded Jitendra of home. To his left was an uninhabited region that was labeled on the map as "Joshua Tree National Park", but this park was not some forested preserve, as the green representation on the map would have one assume. The park was rugged, mountainous, and looked arid. It was a desert full of craggy bluffs, desert palms and cacti. It was country that made him feel comfortable. If it wasn't necessary for him to leave the country immediately, he would have liked to spend some time in this stark wilderness.

For the next twenty miles Jitendra allowed his mind to wander as the scenery swept past him. He had just passed the exit to the Chiriaco Summit when he caught a glint of reflected light up ahead on the highway. The terrain rose slightly and he couldn't see further than two hundred yards in front of him. As he climbed the rise and the view over the crest of the hill lay before him, it felt like a bucket of ice had been dumped into his stomach. Some two hundred yards ahead the entire roadway was completely blocked by the police. Several men were standing behind their vehicles holding guns and rifles, and it was clear that he had been caught for there was no doubt in his mind that this roadblock was for him.

There was no longer a guardrail dividing the eastbound and westbound highways, and without even pausing to consider what his options were, Jitendra turned sharply left, cutting across the scrub that separated them. The move had been anticipated by the authorities, and several vehicles sped up the ramp onto the westbound highway to block the road in the opposite direction. Jitendra simply continued straight across the westbound lanes and rammed the chainlink fence that ran along the north side of the motorway with the police from the westbound lane in hot persuit as the FBI contingent blocking the eastbound lane scrambeled to get into their vehicles to join the chase.

A series of three foot high white concrete road dividers blocked the way past the intervening space between the 10 and Chiriaco Road, but there was an opening almost big enough for the van he was driving between two of them. He jerked the wheel sharply to the right and aimed for the break in the concrete barriers as he floored the gas pedal. With only a few feet left between the van and the road dividers, Jitendra slammed on the brakes and threw the vehicle into reverse while turning the wheel sharply to the left, causing the rear end to spin out toward the dividers hitting the barrier on the right with a thunderous jolt, crumpling the rear panel of the van behind the tire and ripping off the back fender. The impact moved the barrier enough so that when he manuvered around to face the dividers again he was able to squeeze through without blowing out his tires.

The persuing federal authorities assumed that thier fleeing fugative would turn either right or left onto Chiriaco and were astonished to see him cross over it and smash through the fencing surrounding a private airfield next to the roadway. The closest SUV belonged to Agent Noah Sargent, SAC of the Palm Springs office, who was approaching speeds up to 90 miles an hour in an attempt to catch up to the fleeing minivan. He slowed his own vehicle down as he followed his fugitive onto the airport property watching in facinated horror as the van sped toward the runway as a midsized turboprop picked up speed during takeoff on a collision course with the minivan. It was clear that the aircraft had not seen the van approaching the runway from the right and it was equally clear that the fugitive had no intention of slowing down or changing course in order to avoid a crash.

TBC


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N:** This chapter is a little shorter than what is normal for me, but I wanted to get it out quickly.

My apologies for the long wait for this story to get completed. The funny thing is we are very close to the end of the tale. In any case what happened was a combination of things, the first of which was summer vacation. I work the night shift and I have three kids. I **HATE** summer vacations!

Also my muse was kidnapped by another fandom and held prisoner for nearly 3 months. It took some serious diplomatic discussions, but my muse's release has finally been successfully negotiated. I am happy to report that all new writing efforts will be centered on finishing this story.

**  
Chapter Thirty-One**

Jitendra frantically looked around to see if he could find a way to escape. He could see the FBI and local police vehicles chasing him in his rear-view mirror and the fact that their more powerful engines were gaining on him. He saw the turboprop airplane barreling down the runway, picking up speed for takeoff. Across the runway on the far side of the airstrip, he could see a fuel tanker parked off the north edge of the runway, and finally he looked at the wild and rough terrain of the national forest beyond the airstrip beckoning like some sort of nirvana.

The van only had a V6 engine and its top speed was around 90 miles an hour. The van was no match for the eight cylinder engines of the powerful SUV's driven by the federal agents, nor the Crown Victoria models used by the local police. Looking once again at the plane speeding down the runway, a temerarious and desperate plan began to form in his mind as he checked the locations of the pursuing vehicles, the plane and the tanker.

Gauging distance and speed, he stomped on the gas pedal, pushing the van to its limit as he drove straight toward the runway and the oncoming turboprop. Within seconds he would be out on the airstrip and his plan would either succeed allowing him to escape, or it would fail spelling his demise. Which of the two outcomes would happen was a mystery to him. It was a foolhardy and reckless course of action that desperation compelled. Jitendra would much rather die than to be arrested and sent to prison in the soulless and corrupt bowels of the United States penal system, so he had nothing to loose and his freedom to gain.

As he drew closer to the actual runway, a small white structure on the south edge of the airstrip shielded the view of the approaching van from the cockpit of the plane until it was too late. From the pilot's perspective, Jitendra's vehicle shot out from behind the maintenance shed like a bullet, then turned directly toward the aircraft on what appeared to be a suicide mission.

Several things happened at once. The pursuing FBI vehicles broke off pursuit, not wishing to become a part of what was about to be a disaster on the runway of the small private airstrip. Noah Sergeant immediately radioed for fire support, reporting a plane crash at the Chiriaco Summit Airport. The pilot of the turboprop quickly assessed his options, and, unable to move left off the runway due to the presence of the fuel tanker, he veered sharply to the right in an attempt to avoid hitting the van careening out of control and heading straight toward him. The right wing of the plane smashed through the white building in an explosion of splintered wood and roofing material that suddenly became deadly shrapnel flying through the air at fatal speeds.

When the propeller made contact with the corrugated metal roof of the maintenance shed, it broke into pieces; the blades were sheered off, and flew in opposite directions. One headed straight toward the SUV Noah was driving, causing him to slam on the brakes and turn sharply to the right, in an attempt at preventing the speeding blade from slicing through his vehicle, not to mention decapitating either himself or his passenger. The other blade spun across the nose of the plane, and connected with the spinning propeller on the opposite wing, severing the entire assembly from the wing. The complete and essentially intact propeller assembly sailed through the air in the opposite direction, headed directly toward the fuel tanker.

Jitendra never let up off the gas petal using a white knuckled grip on the steering wheel to maneuver the van around the landing gear of the speeding plan as he drove underneath it. He had to lean forward to look up through the windshield in an attempt to avoid being crushed by metal debris falling from the wings of the plane as he drove across the airstrip toward the north. A large chunk of metal from either the wing of the plane or possibly the roof of the demolished storage shed fell from above off to his left and skidded along the tarmac too close to his van to maintain his course. He had no choice but to move off to the right toward the fuel tanker. As he drove, the nearly fully intact propeller assembly shot over the top of the van, close enough that one of the long blades scraped the roof of the vehicle and smashed the windshield, before continuing on its flight directly into the fuel tanker.

One of the blades of the propeller pierced the side of the tanker like a javelin being thrown, which fascinated Jitendra on some level because he realized it could have easily been the van he was driving that was so impaled. Fuel spurted out of the side of the tanker past the damaged sides sending a highly flammable mist of jet fuel into the air around the tanker. It was at that moment that Jitendra saw the sparks flying from the wires hanging from the destroyed propeller assembly. He would have floored the van to move him away faster except that the vehicle was already moving as fast as it would go. He turned his focus back to the beckoning hills, and waited for the explosion which came a few seconds later.

* * *

Don looked at Charlie, satisfied that his brother was not about to start throwing up again, or freak out. There was a determined set to Charlie's face, at least the parts Don could see clearly through the bruising.

"Charlie, the man who attacked you and Amita is Jitendra Pankajakshan. He is the younger brother of Aditi Pankajakshan, the man Amita was betrothed to when she was a girl."

Charlie stared at Don, disbelief radiating from his eyes as his jaw dropped open.

"What? How? Why? That makes no sense! Aditi is married now; to some woman he met in France. Why would he care about Amita turning him down now after all this time?"

"Jitendra is on some sort of family crusade," Don explained. "When Amita rejected Aditi, it caused dishonor for the family in this Jitendra's mind, even though his brother has apparently moved on and forgotten about Amita. Jitendra came to LA to avenge the family honor."

Don watched as the only eye of Charlie's that he could clearly see, narrowed with anger. "Does she know about any of this?"

Don nodded his head. "Yeah she knows the basics. She had a real showdown with her parents at FBI headquarters. Because of the attack against her, she seems to think her father is going to get involved in some sort of family blood feud. She was pretty livid about the whole thing. It really isn't something I should be discussing with her. Her mother and father will need to sort out this mess.

"The FBI at this point is only concerned with Pankajakshan's capture, which should be taking place even as we speak. We did finally manage to contact Aditi through the Ramanujan's lawyer. He claims he knew nothing about any of this. He said that his younger brother broke with family honor when he rejected their heritage and became a Muslim. The FBI, as well as the Mossad are interested in Jitendra because he has ties to a fundamentalist terrorist group. It is my understanding that Aditi is actually flying to LA so that he can either help find his brother, or at the very least, make sure that Amita is alright."

"Aditi's coming here? I'm not sure I like the sound of that," Charlie said defensively. "To be honest with you, at this point I'm not sure I even want to talk to Amita's father anymore. I went to that hotel to make peace with him, and clear up any misunderstandings we may have between us, but now I'm just not sure what to do, or what to think."

Don looked curiously at his brother. "Why, what's bothering you?"

"You say that he had nothing to do with this; with the attack on me, but then how did this Jitendra know where to find me? How did he know that I would be going to that hotel? How did he even know about the hotel? I thought that the change in their accommodations was supposed to prevent this guy from finding Amita's parents. If they didn't tell him where they were staying then how did he find out? If it's because he followed me, then how did that happen? I thought that there were people watching. How could he have tailed me right under the FBI's nose? He would have had to be sitting in a car outside the house, but the street had been cleared by your guys."

Don stared at Charlie for a moment then pulled out his cell phone. "I don't know Charlie, but I'm going to find out. Hey, Colby, it's Don. I want to know who was on duty watching the house and the street last night. Pankajakshan followed Charlie to the hotel; he had to have. I want to know how he was able to stake-out the house without us knowing about it?"

There was a pause and Don sat up straight looking serious. "What? When? Was anyone hurt? No, I'll come to you. Yeah I spent a lot of time in that park. Get maps and arial shots up on the screens in the war room, I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

Don snapped his phone closed and looked to Charlie. "Jitendra Pankajakshan just caused a plane crash out at Chiriaco Summit Airport as a diversion to get away. He has driven up into the Joshua Tree National Park. I've got to go, Buddy. I know that park better than anyone and they want me to coordinate the search through it."

Charlie frowned in confusion at that last statement. "How do you know the park so well?"

"Billy Cooper and I tracked a fugitive through that park for days, once. We ended up covering what felt like every square acre of that territory."

Charlie shook his head gingerly, still wondering. "When was this? I don't remember you being up in LA while you were in fugitive recovery."

Don stood and grabbed his coat as he put his phone away. "Yeah, well we were tracking a dangerous fugitive and didn't really have time to stop by. Come on, Charlie, you remember what it was like back in those days."

Charlie laid his head back on the pillow, suddenly exhausted. "Yeah, I do." He turned his head to Don and in a fierce voice that sounded wholly uncharacteristic for Charlie he said, "You go find that son-of-a-bitch, Don. You find him and bring him in."

Don just looked at his brother for a moment, taking in the brutality of the beating Jitendra Pankajakshan had inflicted on him, and then nodded. "You can count on it, Buddy."

TBC


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter Thirty-Two**

Colby checked the duty roster for the protection detail and spoke directly with the agents assigned to watch the Eppes home the previous night. Every vehicle parked on the street for a block in either direction of the house had the plates run and cleared, according to standard protocol. The agents inspected the area and logged the plates of any vehicles passing by the house. He went through all the surveillance notes for the entire time that the violent crimes squad had been on the detail and found no inconsistencies. The lack of evidence in the paperwork meant that he would have to go door-to-door and interview neighbors to see if they had noticed anything out of the ordinary.

Colby thought that the real problem would be that the protection detail was focused on Amita. Pankajakshan had shown no interest in Charlie at all, and the protection detail had left with Amita before Charlie even got home from Don's apartment this morning. If Charlie had been the target all along, then it wasn't surprising that they had not seen anything to draw their suspicion. When Amita wasn't at the Craftsman, the FBI agents protecting her weren't. There were plenty of times when Pankajakshan could have set up his own surveillance's. The fact that he had thought out the attack on Charlie, with the custom-made branding iron and butane torch to heat it, pointed to the fact that the team had missed a very big clue somewhere along the line.

Colby wanted to have Megan come with him to interview the neighbors. She had a better eye for subtle hints and unconscious clues that people unintentionally displayed and at this point he didn't want to miss the tiniest of clues. Megan met Colby at the Eppes home and they decided to start at the corner and work their way down the same side of the street as the Craftsman first.

Charlie lived in a working-class neighborhood, and most of the residents weren't home during the day, so they were only able to speak to three of Charlie's neighbors before they reached his house. An elderly couple that played bridge with Alan and Margaret when she was still alive was the first interview that they had. Robert and Helen Bridgestone were retired and stayed home most of the time, but neither of them had noticed anything different around the neighborhood over the last week. Mrs. Bridgestone was shocked to hear that little Charlie Eppes had been attacked and asked Megan rather pointedly if the school had been notified so that the young hooligan could be suspended for picking on the boy.

Megan and Colby exchanged slightly confused looks and Mrs. Bridgestone elaborated. "That awful Samuel Titchell is always going after poor little Charlie! His parents should be held accountable for that rotten little bully's behavior!" she practically shouted.

Mr. Bridgestone patted his wife's hand and asked her to go get some lemonade for the agents. As soon as she left the room he turned to the two completely befuddled FBI agents and spoke apologetically.

"I'm sorry, you'll have to forgive Helen. She gets confused sometimes. Sam Titchell is a bully who used to pick on Charlie when they were in the third grade."

Megan smiled at Colby and then back at Mr. Bridgestone. "I see. Well, thank you very much for your help, Mr. Bridgestone." Megan replied, as she and Colby stepped toward the door.

"Is he alright? Charlie, I mean."

Colby's face turned dark and serious. "He was hurt pretty badly, but yeah, in time he'll be fine."

"That poor kid has had it pretty rough lately. Alan and I still talk when we see each other at the golf course. He told me about the aneurysm and I've seen Charlie walking with the cane. He's too young to have to deal with all of these problems."

There really wasn't much that either of the agents could say to that, but Megan nodded in agreement and said, "Yes, he is, but he's a strong man and he has the support of his family and friends."

The next two interviews they conducted netted roughly the same results. It was a friendly enough neighborhood, but it seemed that most people kept to themselves. Two homes past the Craftsman, a little old lady named Penny Arbonne was all-too-happy to invite the FBI agents into her home. She had three cups of tea out and waiting on a silver tea platter along with a tall silver tea pot, and creamer and sugar bowl.

Her sharp hawk-like eyes held a glint of mischievousness in them as she noted the surprised looks on Megan's and Colby's faces at the reception.

"I saw you knocking on every door and knew that it wouldn't be long before you came to visit me. Would you like cream and sugar with your tea?" she asked, brightly.

Chuckling under his breath Colby smiled at the lady and said, "Yes, thank you," as he and Megan took a seat.

Penny poured the cups of tea and handed them to her guests and then sat back sipping her own tea looking like the Cheshire cat.

"I imagine you are here looking for some gossip, yes? Well I know everything that happens on this street. I know, for instance, that you folks have been staking out the Eppes place. I've seen your agents sitting in their cars watching the house."

Megan and Colby raised their eyebrows at that. The protection detail had been discreet, but this woman had obviously been watching everything very closely. Megan suspected that she was lonely and keeping a close eye on her neighbors was a way for her to pass her time.

"I know that the older brother is an FBI agent and I suspect he is your coworker. I've seen him with both of you on several occasions. Rumor has it that some pretty nasty business has been going on for the young professor and his lady friend."

Megan smiled politely at the woman and asked, "What rumors have you heard, Mrs. Arbonne?"

"Oh, please call me Penny, dear. Well, it isn't so much what I've heard as what I've seen. I know that the young professor has had some terrible problems with his health, the poor dear. And I know that his lady friend until this past week hasn't been spending nearly as much time over there either. When she came to stay at the house earlier this week she looked just terrible, poor thing!"

"Were you over at the house at some point, Mrs., um, I mean, Penny?" Colby asked.

"Oh, no, dear. I saw her bruised face with these." She answered, matter-of-factly, lifting a small pair of opera glasses. "Between his stroke and her troubles, it's a wonder that poor couple hasn't run off together just to get some peace. Her parents didn't look too happy when they arrived and that makes me wonder. Alan looked about as angry as I have ever seen him after that party out back yesterday. Something has gotten his goat, if you don't mind me sayin', and I suspect it has something to do with the young lady's parents."

The incredulous looks that the agents exchanged were almost comical. "You deduced all of that by looking through those little binoculars?" Colby asked.

"People aren't that hard to read if you watch them long enough."

Megan didn't think that this interview was getting them anywhere and it was time to change the focus of the conversation.

"What about other things in the neighborhood? Have you seen anyone or any vehicles that don't belong here? A blue van possibly?"

The broad smile was back and their hostess touched her finger to her nose. "A blue van did you say? I did see a blue van in the most peculiar place, actually."

* * *

Jitendra kept driving the van even after he pushed the vehicle past its structural limit, crashing through the fence on the far side of the airstrip. The explosion of the tanker nearly tipped the vehicle over, but he managed to keep the van headed toward the park. As he crashed through the fence, however, the fencing material got caught up in the muffler and exhaust system under the vehicle, and ripped it almost off as he kept driving at breakneck speed. The rear axle took a direct hit when the muffler wedged between it and the undercarriage of the vehicle and bent the axle beyond usability. He managed to drive up into the park by a few hundred yards before the right rear wheel snapped and came off altogether with fencing wire twisted around the shaft.

He jumped out of the van grabbing his bag and looked back at the airstrip. The heat from the fire that engulfed the tanker was so strong that he could feel it against his face, and he was not surprised to see that the back half of the van was scorched. He ran as fast as he could to get up into the park and under cover of the craggy rocky terrain. About three miles off to the left there was a delta area that converged into a river bed that was nearly dried up running north up into the park. The FBI would not be able to catch up to him for some time as the tanker explosion and plane crash he caused would work as effective barriers for a time. He headed straight for the river bed and managed to traverse the distance in under forty-five minutes.

Jitendra was not blind to the fact that there was a helicopter overhead that was searching for him and he needed to get as far away from the van as possible. He was amazed that he had not been hurt when the van had absorbed the concussion caused by the exploding tanker, but he felt that this was just one more example of Allah validating his decisions. Luck was certainly on his side; not to mention the front and side airbags that had deployed when the van was rocked by the explosion. When he reached the river delta he quickly climbed down into the wide ravine created by the wasted waterway. Hugging the sides, he made his way further up into the mountainous country. He could still hear the helicopter searching for him as he moved ever northward.

The delta was beginning to narrow as the terrain coalesced into the main river bed and he saw that a small tributary moved off to the northwest running between high hilly peaks of craggy rock. To get to it he would have to cross the delta expanse and expose himself to detection, but it looked like his best option. He stopped and looked up and over his shoulder. The helicopter was not near his position and the crossing was almost a half a mile wide. He pulled the hood of his tan jacket up over the baseball cap, shouldered his bag, and, taking one last look behind him, he made a dash for the tributary.

Once committed to the course of action he never stopped or even slowed to see the progress of the aerial search for him. Speed was his only asset at the moment and he was going to use it to his greatest advantage. His ankle screamed in pain as he ran as fast as he could across the rugged and uneven ground, but the brace and heavy ace bandage were keeping the joint secure even with the pounding pace he set. After seven long minutes he gained the tributary and turned sharply to the right as it headed straight uphill into the tall cliff area.

Taking shelter under an outcropping of rock he finally stopped and rested, only then trying to pinpoint the helicopter. He did hear it, closer to his location now, but still a distance from his hiding place. He kept the hood pulled over his baseball cap. The hood was similar in color to the indigenous rock surrounding him, and served as a type of camouflage. He chanced a look out from his position under the outcropping. He could see the helicopter but it was turned northeast and was following the main waterway. He sat back and breathed a sigh of relief. He had not been spotted. He would have time to rest for a few minutes before he wended his way up the smaller tributary until he could find a feasible path through the park and back to a road where he could acquire new transportation. The only real problem he had was lack of knowledge of the area. He didn't know how extensive or how populated this park was. It showed up as a large green oblong patch on his map. The only thing that looked remotely promising was a pinpoint on the map to the east of him labeled _Eagle Mountain_.

To get to Eagle Mountain he would need to backtrack the way he had come and cross the main river bed, which the FBI was clearly searching. Lack of information was going to get him killed or worse, caught. He needed to get a local map of the park itself. He looked up at the sky and then his watch. It was late afternoon and there were still several hours of daylight left. He needed to get further into the park or find a good hiding place until nightfall. The federals wouldn't search after dark so that is when he would need to make his escape. Listening again for any sign of the aerial pursuit and hearing none, Jitendra got up and began moving as quickly as possible up into the hills.

TBC

**A/N:** I'm sorry that this chapter is so short. There are actually two other parts to it that have yet to be completed. I wanted to get it posted, as is, because for the next while I will be tied up caring for my 4 year old son who is very ill. At 6:30 this morning my husband took his temperature and the thermometer read 107.2. We checked the thermometer to make sure it was functioning properly by having my husband take his own temperature and it came out a normal 98.6. We are unsure what has him in this fever but our biggest concern is that what ever he has stays out of his lungs. He is an asthmatic and an 'at risk' patient so we are duly concerned. Your prayers at this point would no go amiss.

I will get the rest of the chapter up as soon as it is possible to finish it. Thank you for you understanding and patience.  
Alice I


	33. Chapter 33

A/N: Thanks for all the well wishes. My son had the H1N1 virus, but responded extremely well to the Tamiflu medication. He is now a happy bubbling picture of health. I have also taken the anti-viral medication, but I don't think I ever had the actual flu. No fevers. I think I was just run down. In any case we are both doing well and we appreciate your patience.

I also want to thank those readers who jumped to my defense against a flamer. Unfortunately there will always be people like Jitendra Pankajakshan and dark angel in this world. She isn't the first nor will she be the last. She did, however, brilliantly demonstrate the main point of this story and how utterly pointless cruelty and intolerance can effect the world around you, although I'm pretty sure that was not her intention.

**  
Chapter Thirty-Three**

Don arrived at the office and immediately asked David to pull up any footage they had on the area where Pankajakshan disappeared. The only footage they had gotten thus far was problematic due to the tanker explosion. It was such a huge explosion with its main force going straight up, it nearly knocked the helicopter out as the bird tried to keep the van in sight. The helicopter had to pull back and move away from the tanker as a blistering shock wave of heat rocketed into the sky. As it was, the camera mounted to the undercarriage of the bird was damaged, which meant landing the helicopter and switching out the camera with a spare that was stored on board. The entire process took just over half an hour.

Don was stunned by the feed coming in. "This guy caused a plane crash and blew up a tanker just so he could get away? That is definitely a terrorist mentality. How many were hurt out there today, David?"

David was on the phone with Noah Sargent and held up a finger before he could answer Don. "Agent Sargent, can you give me a casualty count?" There was a pause, then David said, "I hear you. I'll keep the line open, so let me know what's happening as you get intel. We're getting live feed from the bird now. Yeah, okay, keep me informed."

David disconnected the call and looked up at Don. "So far we only have one casualty reported, Don; a local police officer's cruiser was literally sliced in half by a flying propeller blade. The officer is in bad shape but he is alive."

Don looked shocked as he viewed the devastation on the screen, but David continued. "We don't know about any of the passengers or crew on the plane yet. The fire department is still working on the fire so that they can get close enough to the plane to get the passengers off. The tanker explosion blew out all the windows on the left side of the aircraft and we have to assume that we will have more casualties as we get to those people."

Don looked at the helicopter footage on the plasma screen in the war room. The bird was flying low over the park and had come across the charred remains of the van. He knew this park very well and asked David to put up a topical map of the area. After studying it for a few minutes he pointed out the delta area and river bed.

"Pankajakshan is not familiar with the park, but he has spent a lot of time in this kind of terrain considering his background with the Abu Nidel. We need to catch this guy before nightfall, because if we don't we are gonna loose him. If I were him I'd head for the river bed. It heads north up into the hills of the park..." Don trailed off as he looked more closely at the map and then at the live feed.

The helicopter had already chosen to work its way up the main riverbed and Don noticed the small tributary leading off to the Northwest. "If it were me, I'd head this way." Don said, as he stepped up to the screen and pointed to the smaller tributary. "There is more cover from the steep craggy banks along this tributary than along the main riverbed and it still leads up into the north end of the park. If he went this way we may catch a break."

David moved in closer to see where Don had indicated. "Why?"

"This tributary leads directly into Box Canyon. There are only two ways out of that canyon - a service road to the northeast of the canyon and the riverbed leading into it, but it is also an excellent hiding place. The canyon walls are steep and filled with recessed caves. The walls are too high and dangerous to climb out without exposing yourself to aerial pursuit, but some of the cave systems in this canyon go on for miles. He could easily get lost in there. Have a contingent of men get to the service road and set up a blockade there and get that helicopter to circle back and search along the riverbed."

* * *

Colby and Megan approached Nelson Hibbard's home cautiously. They knew that Pankajakshan wasn't there, but they followed protocol just the same. A terrorist with experience in a faction of the Abu Nidel could easily have left behind booby traps as Colby knew all too well. The garage was their point of entry. There was no vehicle naturally but it was clear by the tire marks and mud on the floor that one had been parked there recently.

Penny Arbonne had insisted that Mr. Hibbard should be home considering he didn't ever go out anymore, so as the agents entered the home they called out to the elderly man hoping against hope that he was alive and simply tied up somewhere inside the house. As they entered through the kitchen they were immediately assaulted by the smell. Moving quickly through the kitchen and into the dining room they first saw surveillance equipment, specifically a radio receiver, on the table. When they moved into the dining room next to the front living room they found Mr. Hibbard lying on the floor in the living room. A cane was also on the floor tangled up in his feet and to all appearances it looked as though the old man had tripped over his cane and fallen, hitting his head on the coffee table, but the agents knew better.

Colby flipped open his phone and contacted the office to give them an update and to get the FBI crime lab techs out and on-scene. Once he had briefed David about the situation he stepped over to the receiver and flipped a switch and listened. There was no sound coming through but that wasn't surprising.

"Megan how much you wanna' bet that the transmitter to this is somewhere in the Eppes house?"

Megan shook her head, "I won't take that bet. I have a key so stay here and I'll head over there."

Colby looked a little dismayed by that decision. "Oh sure, you get go to the clean odor-free house while I stay here? I'll flip you for the duty."

"Not a chance, Granger!" She said with a wrinkled nose as she headed quickly for the door.

Colby moved into the living room and looked sadly at the old man. "I'm sorry you ended this way old timer. It wasn't what you , or anyone, deserved."

He moved off to the window and opened it up wide to try and air out the smell a little before going back to the table with the receiver on it. Within moments he heard the sounds of Megan entering the Eppes home. "Okay, Colby let's see if you can hear me."

A second later his cell phone rang on his belt and he answered. "Hey, Megan, yeah I heard you go in. Keep talking as you walk around and I'll tell you if you get louder."

Megan walked slowly through the living room speaking in a normal tone of voice. I don't see anything out of place here in the living room, but a bug could have been placed anywhere. The question is; how did he get it into the house unnoticed?" Megan's voice began to fade slightly as he looked under lamp shades and around the edges of the pictures on the wall near the bay window.

"Megan you are fading a little. I can still hear you but I think you are moving away from the transmitter." Colby said, into the phone.

"Okay I'm moving toward the base of the stairs and closer to the dining room. How am I coming in now?"

"Your stronger now. You must be moving toward the transmitter. Keep talking."

Megan looked around wondering what the bug could be in. There were a million different hiding places that it could be in and she wished that the tech guys were here so that she could use a bug sweeper to locate the transmitter quickly.

"You know Granger, this place has been under constant surveillance since Amita was attacked. I don't think that Pankajakshan could have gotten in here to plant a bug. It must be something that was delivered, but no deliveries have been made since then either. Even for the BBQ, nothing new was introduced or delivered to the house. Let me try the kitchen." she said, as she moved over to the swinging door.

As soon as she moved through the door her voice dropped to a muted sound on the receiver and Colby spoke into the phone. "No. Megan go back. It must be in the dining room."

Megan came back through the door and into the dinning room. "Okay can you hear me now?"

Colby resisted the sarcastic retort that automatically formed on his lips at that question.

"Yeah nice and clear. What do you see in front of you?"

Megan looked around. There was an old maple hutch filled with china to her right. The staircase to the left. In front of her was the dining room table with books and papers scattered across the left end of the table. A vase of flowers that Amita's students had sent her was in the middle of the table and a wooden bowl set that had been moved from the hutch sat on the right end of the table.

"The flowers! That must be it. Larry brought the flowers from Cal Sci a few days ago."

Colby pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it as though it had grown testicles. "What! Megan you said Larry brought the flowers over. You're not accusing, Larry..."

"No, of course not, Granger!" Megan replied, in an irritated voice. "Hang on a second."

Megan put her phone on speaker and set it down as she reached for the vase. "Larry found the vase of flowers on Amita's desk when he went in to teach her class. There was a card that all of her students had signed and he brought it back here with him. He never thought twice about who actually purchased them..."

Megan had been looking through the flowers in the vase trying to find the transmitter nestled into the bouquet as she spoke.

"Well you are coming through on the receiver loud and clear now." Colby said, into his own phone.

As soon as Megan actually lifted the vase up off the table Colby heard the sound of her hands touching the ceramic of the vase and the clink of her ring along it's surface.

"Yeah, Megan, you're right. I can hear you picking up the vase."

Megan ran her fingers along the surface of the slender neck of the vase up to the overhanging lip. In a moment she found the bug. "Got it!" she called, triumphantly.

Megan set the vase back down on the table not moving the transmitter at all. That would be up to the evidence techs to collect and process. It didn't matter that she had left fingerprints on the vase because everyone who had touched it had. The important thing was for her not to touch or interfere with the planted transmitter.

"Okay, so now we know how this guy has been one step ahead of us the whole time. I'm on my way back to you. Call David, and tell him what we found."

Colby was glad to be able to leave Mr. Hibbard's house. He felt badly for the old man and didn't want to disrespect him, but the stench was powerful. Mr. Hibbard had obviously been dead for a few days, and Colby was glad to have a reason to step out into the bright sun and fresh air.

* * *

Don sank down in a chair in the war room, stunned by the news that Pankajakshan had murdered Nelson Hibbard.

"Charlie and I were just talking about him last night. We planned to go and see him after this was all over, because we had lost touch with him over the years. He was a decent man, David. He didn't deserve to have his home invaded or to be murdered out of convenience! Jitendra Pankajakshan has no conscience, which makes him the most dangerous kind of fugitive. He won't even bat an eye at killing his way through FBI agents or local law enforcement. He has nothing to loose. We can tie him to two murders and two attempted murders – so far. Has the fire department been able to rescue any survivors from the plane yet?"

David had been receiving regular updates from Noah Sargent as to the progress of the disaster out at Chiriaco airport.

"The pilot is dead, but the co-pilot is alive. Several people were injured when the windows blew out on the plane but so far no one has died among the passengers."

Don shook his head and got up. He moved over to the map of the Joshua Tree National park and looked at it then to the live feed from the helicopter running pursuit up the main riverbed.

"Where are they now?" he asked, indicating the helicopter search.

David pointed to the map to show Don how far up the riverbed the helicopter had flown as of his last report two minutes ago. The helicopter had flown low over the river bed nearly five miles up without a sign of their fugitive.

"No. There is no way Pankajakshan could have gotten that far. Have them back track and check this side tributary. They'll have to get even lower to spot him if he is there due to the overhanging banks. Have them look for any signs of shale dropping down the sides. His passage through here won't be invisible. We need to corner this guy before he makes it into the cave systems in Box Canyon. He won't escape but it could cost countless lives to go in after him."

David stood thoughtfully for a moment then looked back at the map on the screen. "If you think he is headed to Box Canyon then why not get there first and set up an ambush?"

"Yeah, that's a great idea IF that is where he is going, but what if I'm wrong? If we allocate our resources to that plan and he is elsewhere then he gets away - again."

David realized that Don had a valid point but in the years that he had known Don he had come to trust his instincts. The man was rarely wrong. The bottom line here was what was he willing to risk. He was in charge of this maneuver, what ever decision he made rested on his shoulders alone. After another moment of thought he dialed Noah Sargent.

"Recall the helicopter. Get as many agents as possible on board and head directly to Box Canyon. The priority goes to sharp shooters. Get an ambush set up. We think he is headed up the left tributary off the main riverbed that heads directly into the canyon. Keep the local teams working up the main riverbed as well. They will know the area better than we do. Let me know when you're set up."

David hung up the phone and Don was looking at him with an appraising eye. "You're taking a chance with this David, you know that."

David's mind was made up and he wouldn't change it at this point. "Yeah, I know, but that's my call. I'll take the heat if he gets away."

Don sat back hoping that David wasn't making a huge mistake by trusting his instincts, but he completely respected the man for taking the role of leadership and shouldering the consequences if he made a bad decision. David would make an excellent squad leader, and he filed that nugget away for the future.

TBC

A/N: Just one more note to say that Fraidycat has faithfully beta read this document right from the beginning. I want to thank her for her patience and perseverance. It must be difficult to beta for someone who has lost her muse – but she hasn't given up on me. Thanks, Cat.


End file.
